~ Chapter Seven ~
L eaving the cabin the next day and returning to Alum Rock and his home had been a blur.
Regan managed to bring a few items of Max’s back with him, the purple journal being one.
He made a point to leave the cabin as early as possible—he didn’t want to run into Lutin again.
He wanted to forget the whole affair. It wasn’t an affair; it was a mistake.
That’s all. As he reflected on the day, he wanted to puke.
He tried to avoid as much emotion as possible as he didn’t want there to be any issues with the lights or water.
He failed.
Circuits blew and more than once he had to go and reset the breakers.
The water pipes banged continually and nothing Regan did made a difference.
At one point he was going to go out and shut down the power and water to the house.
Hoping to keep the… the what? Elementals. The children. What should he call them?
Magic is all crazy.
Regan did what he could to keep himself in check and tried to keep them from doing any damage to his home.
Sunday morning turned into Sunday afternoon, then Sunday night.
As the days moved forward, he found when he wasn’t working, he pored over the journal and the other items he brought with him.
The more he focused on magic, the more the…
the Twins, he decided to call them, seemed to behave.
He needed to find something in there to make all this change.
Maybe he couldn’t bring Max back and that was something he’d need to live with, but he had to figure out the rest. He didn’t want to be an Elemental.
He didn’t want the Twins in his life. This thought almost caused every light and water fixture in his home to explode.
He needed to watch himself and his thoughts.
Regan spoke out loud several times addressing the Twins, telling them he wasn’t angry at them and he didn’t want them to be upset.
He was hurting and he needed to figure things and himself out.
Saying this multiple times out loud appeared to work, at least temporarily.
However, when he contemplated his strange gifts, he longed for his normal life, not to mention what happened on Saturday night—he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to attempt sex again.
Max had been there, he would have sworn, but he wasn’t.
The man on the sofa had been Lutin, sweet and kind Lutin.
The guy didn’t make him feel lesser for what happened—in fact, he remained polite and gracious, if not a bit smart-assed about the whole event.
Which Regan couldn’t decide if he found endearing or infuriating.
Walking through the front door, he plopped down on the bench near the door to take off his work boots.
Once his feet were freed from their bindings, he wiggled his toes.
He needed to eat something but couldn’t force himself to cook.
And given his continued frustration and annoyance, he didn’t want to upset the Twins, who for the most part have been well-behaved.
Although he did get zapped a few times at work and there had been the unexplained leaking pipe, but that might have been because of him and not them.
Who knew. I can’t be sure of anything anymore.
Regan made his way to the kitchen and pulled out bread, strawberry jelly, and peanut butter. It’s not much but it’s food. He found a knife and began putting his dinner together. I’ll probably make popcorn later.
Regan didn’t bother sitting at the table.
Instead he ate at the sink, letting the crumbs fall into the basin and making for easy cleanup, he hoped.
Once finished and tempting fate, or the Twins, he cleaned up the minimal mess and went to his room to change into sweats and a t-shirt.
Once out of his work clothes, he crossed to the desk, flipping on the light and stepping back… and nothing happened.
Thank God.
Foregoing his hour on the treadmill, he pulled out the chair and sat.
He began going through one of Max’s books he grabbed when he packed up and left the cabin.
There were so many books and Regan wasn’t thinking when he packed up to leave.
The book he currently read was a tome of all the magical creatures that existed and what their powers and abilities were.
He wasn’t far into the novel but he noted the book gave instructions on how to tell what they were when they showed up in human form.
The book mentioned auras and the different colors and how some of the creatures’ auras were combinations of colors uncommon to humans.
Most people’s auras were single-colored, but magical creatures tended to have combinations of colors and differing shades of colors reflecting their unique energy and experiences.
None of this talk on auras made much sense, since Regan couldn’t see auras, but still the knowledge was good to know.
In a way, digging deeper into how magic worked made him feel a bit more like he had some control over the world again.
He peeked up from the book, seeing the lights on and not hearing any water running. And the Twins seem content with my learning as well. So that’s good.
He put the book down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s probably all bunk anyway.” His desk light flickered and the toilet in the bathroom started running. “Sorry.”
The mechanical chime of the front door caught his attention, and he got up and made his way to the main part of the house. In his neighborhood, there were always people selling things or trying to hit you up for money for something.
I wonder what it’ll be tonight?
Regan opened the door to see Lutin dressed in baggy blue jeans and an ill-fitting faded peach polo shirt and smiling. He held a ceramic planter with a small jasmine plant.
“May I come in?” Lutin asked. His blonde wispy hair had been slicked back and pulled off his face, bringing all focus to his bright green eyes. Regan scanned him up and down. How could someone so delicate and frumpy-looking always have such a powerful presence about them?
Maybe all dancer types appeared that way. Who knows.
Regan turned his head away from Lutin, but didn’t close the door. He moved aside, allowing the man entry into his home.
“I brought you this.” Lutin held out the plant. “It’s Jasmine. I thought?—”
Regan closed the door and took the offered plant doing his best to avoid eye contact. “Why are you here?”
“Can we sit down?” Lutin asked. “Please.”
Regan nodded, placing the plant on the bench then relocating into the living room. He pointed to the sofa as he sat in the chair facing the fireplace.
“I thought you might want to talk.” Lutin sat where Regan offered and rested his hands by his side. “I didn’t feel right about you leaving from your home. I would have followed you, but I remembered you aren’t Max and I figured you needed time to reflect and calm down.”
Regan huffed out a laugh.
“You don’t need to feel bad… or anything about what happened.”
“But I do,” Regan growled, not facing Lutin. “I thought…” He shook his head.
“You thought I was Max.” Lutin leaned forward, his words soft. “I know.”
“What?” Regan couldn’t help but meet the man’s gaze.
Lutin let out a laugh, with no cruelty or mockery but only warmth. “At first, I didn’t know, but I quickly figured it out. Frankly, I blame Blaise. His charm and appeal probably played a bit with your emotions…” He sighed. “As did mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you took several of Max’s books. Have you gone through the one about all the magical beings?”
“I started.”
Lutin nodded. “When you get to the Fae, in general, we are a bit… well, we can have that effect on people, if we want.”
“And you wanted to?” Regan couldn’t help but ask.
“I won’t lie to you—yes. And I was… well, if I’m being honest, flattered you even saw me in that way, especially as I am now. It’s been some time.”
“But, I thought you were Max.” Regan crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“I know.”
Lutin’s bright green-eyed gaze bore into Regan, making it hard for him to not want to turn away, but he didn’t. “You knew and you didn’t stop me… That’s messed up.”
“I may be Fae, which doesn’t make me human, but I still have feelings. I still have needs and desires like you. Having a handsome man want me, even for a moment, a man I find enchanting… Saying no was not easy for me.”
“What can I possibly say to that?”
“Nothing. Something. I don’t know.” Lutin bit at his lips. “May I ask, do you find me attractive? Did you find Blaise attractive?”
Regan’s gaze dropped to the floor and he shifted away from Lutin. “I… I mean…” He huffed. “You have beautiful green eyes and I like your delicate features. You remind me of a dancer. So yes,” he admitted. “I’ve always had a bit of a thing for dancers, I guess.”
Lutin beamed as blues, indigos, and violet sparkles appeared to dance around his head and shoulders. Regan tried to ignore the lightshow. “What did you see when you looked at Blaise?” Lutin asked.
Regan thought a moment, the image of Blaise jumping to the front of his mind. “I don’t know. He’s a big guy, dark complexion, with close-trimmed black hair, and he had dark brown eyes. I guess he kind of reminded me of that actor, Idris Elba.”
Lutin smirked and bit back his laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be telling him that anytime soon—his ego is already quite inflated.”
“I don’t understand.” Regan rubbed his hands on his dark gray sweat pants, suddenly feeling frumpy and not the least bit presentable or attractive. “And why do you now have these bluish and purplish sparkles around your head and shoulders?”
“I do?” Lutin pushed his lips out a bit. “Interesting.”
“You’re not doing that?” Regan waved his hand in Lutin’s direction.
“No.” Lutin shook his head. “I try to blend in. I try not to stand out in a crowd. For me, I find keeping a low profile is best.”