Chapter 5
Poppy
G asping awake, I freeze , trying to figure out where I am. I’m swaddled in a bed full of more blankets than I’ve ever seen. Turning, the pillow next to me smells of leather, wood-smoke, and hops, and my stomach flip-flops as if an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies is trying to emerge. The fire in the stone hearth crackles, just like the one in the brewery. Straining my ears to hear anything besides the drumming of my heart—there. A growl? Snarl? It’s not a human sound. Pained, angry, the sound chills the inside of me. A shame, considering I feel like I’m barely warm—like tepid water.
Sitting up slowly, as my head throbs against my skull, I take in my surroundings. Certainly not home, or the place previously known as home before my mom died. I have no idea where I am, but I think I’m near orcs. Or, an orc. A furious orc with a septum ring and a broken fang. Probably because someone stole his recipe and golden stein. Shit. I have to get out of here.
Biting my lip to avoid whimpering at the idea of getting out of the deliciously warm bed, I push myself. The smooth trodden wooden floor is cold, but thankfully creak-proof. Tiptoeing, I find my clothes in front of the fire. Still damp, I put them on. I focus on Addy’s face in my mind to avoid gagging at the feel of the wet, still-chilled clothes on my skin. I’m doing this for Addy . Remember that.
The stein is at the bottom of the creek, and the recipe is legible but wet and fragile. What a disaster of a mission. I’m glad I never have to do this again.
Dressed, shivering, I look out the window. Snow flurries fly through the moonlight, not a care in the world. I’m on the second floor, and there’s no easy way down. What I wouldn’t give for a fire escape or a good old-fashioned drain pipe right now. Breaking a leg isn’t going to help me escape. Looking down at the frozen ground makes dizzy and lightheaded. Nope.
Still tiptoeing, I make my way to the landing. Low, mumbled voices come from the bar area. But from here, I can’t see anyone, only flickering light from the big fire in the dining area. Hopefully that means they can’t see me either. Carefully, I make my way down the steps. There’s a buzzing in my ears, and the lightheadedness is back. Adrenaline and slight hypothermia don’t go well together. Shaking my head, I try to keep calm. Stay in the game, Poppy .
The second to last stair creaks. Loudly. I freeze. The voices stop. I’m positive they can all hear my heart thumping, giving me away.
Run, my brain says. I listen.
Hand on the door, almost to freedom for the second time tonight, a massive hand pulls me away from the door. I smell Koru before I look up and see his fiery eyes. The same hops, wood-smoke, and leather from the bed upstairs. Comforting and warm. I should be afraid, but desire licks through me. His intense black eyes threaten to burn a hole through me. His septum ring flares with each heavy breath of his.
“You’re awake.”
“Yes. Thank you for—” for what? I don’t even remember what happened. “Rescuing me? And letting me nap. You know, when I got to town, the witchy lady at the coffee shop said you were a real gem. She was right! I feel like a new person now, thanks. I’ll get out of your hair now.” I give a weak smile, kicking myself for opening my mouth and letting every stream of consciousness out. Blink once, twice, and try to erase the image of my hands tangled in his messy hair. His thick fingers caressing me. In another life. Start walking. Get out of here.
“Did you take it?” Koru’s words and movements are careful, slow. My ears strain to hear a growl, but his voice sounds strained, as if it’s hard to get the words out.
His giant body shields me from the door, the other voices, and the rest of the world. I should be afraid. Really terrified. But all I feel is deep sadness that this will be the last time his giant paw of a hand will touch me this way, radiating warmth through my shoulder blades.
“I—I—yes.” I swallow hard, eyes laser-focused on him. Refuse to cower or be ashamed of taking care of my sister. “I’m taking care of my sister,” I say, trying to sound convincing, ignoring the dizziness that makes me lean on his hand more than I should.
At that, he snorts a mocking laugh. “Your sister needs my golden stein and beer recipe to be taken care of? What else, a silver spoon?”
I can’t. I try to make my mouth say the words, but nothing comes out. Or maybe my mouth doesn’t even form the words. Look at Koru’s eyes again, try to focus, but there’s nothing but a swirling mass of orc before me. Never before have I failed to lie to get myself out of trouble. But I find an inability to lie or deceive Koru. Keep it together, Poppy.
“Where is it?”
I can feel the tips of his nails digging into my back. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a threat. Stiffen my spine, lift my chin, ignore the wooziness that threatens to overtake me. This is my moment. Remember Addy.
“The bottom of the creek.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine at all. I’m ashamed. Heat creeps up my neck and cheeks. “I don’t think I can get it out.”
More mocking laughter. Of course. That was a dumb thing to say. He removes his hand from my body, wipes it down his face, snagging on his tusks.
“Leave,” the whispered word knife to my heart. I shouldn’t expect anything less. I guess I hoped maybe the feeling inside me at the mere sound of his voice, let alone the feel of his touch, was something he felt, too. That it might be stronger than the need for the damned trophy.
“Koru!” Both our heads snap toward the bar, where two other orcs stand, arms crossed over their bulky chests. Now I know I’m in trouble, but the way they look between Koru and me, back and forth, is like two grannies who can’t be bothered to keep their noses in their own business.
“You can’t send her out into this weather.” One of the grannyish orcs says.
“No thieves allowed. I think you can agree with that standard.” Koru’s words are sharp, and the outspoken orc recoils slightly, then nods.
“You can spend the night at my place. Don’t worry, my girlfriend is there,” the other orc rushes to say when he sees the not a chance look on my face. If Koru’s eyes were lasers, they would have sliced through the other orc, leaving a neat pile of orc stew meat behind.
And just like that, I’m shuffled out the door and into a big pickup truck with an orc with a very scarred and beat up face named Bjorn. I try not to let him see how my hands tremble in my lap.
What have I gotten myself into? How am I going to get free—of the orcs and also my stepdad? If I hadn’t taken the stein, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it missing. Of course, then I’d still be frozen at the bottom of the creek. For the first time in my adult life, I felt safe and cherished, if only for a few brief hours.?