Emily shrugged, her expression uncertain. “I feel bad, Dee. Don’t ask me why. Ever since you left I’ve been feeling like I did something wrong or said something that pushed you away. And tonight I just, well, I just knew you were here and that’s kind of freaking me out. I’m not into any of that hocus-pocus. I need you to tell me what happened that night. Are you okay, Dorothy?”
“No, I’m not. But it isn’t your fault.” It wasn’t like Emily to wor
ry like this. Not about her. It was…nice. What else had Z done to her when he’d wiped her memory? “Go home, Emily. I’ll call you in a few days.”
If I make it back. If I survive. If this isn’t some elaborate trap.
“That’s weird,” Emily changed the topic abruptly. “There isn’t supposed to be a storm tonight, is there? I swear, the weather has been so strange lately.”
“Huh?” Dorothy looked out over the ocean. Black clouds roiled over the moon, coming fast and furious. And straight toward the shore.
“His name.” She’d said his name. Just a whisper. But he’d said that was all she would have to do.
“I’m not ready, damn it!” She took Emily’s arm, dragging her back toward the small hill that led to the road. “Run, Emily. Get away from that storm.”
Emily struggled against her grip. “What about you? What’s going on, Dorothy? What are you doing out here?”
The wind stole her breath, the loud roar of the powerful storm deafening. There was no time. She grabbed onto the now-screaming Emily, hugging her struggling body close and shouting at the wind. “Zenamulous!”
She thought she heard his voice inside the funnel that was forming around them. “Sweet Dorothy.”
And then the storm consumed her, the air thinning so rapidly she saw spots in front of her eyes. She was flying. She was tumbling.
She was gone.
***
Dorothy sat up slowly, groaning at the pain shooting up from her backside to her shoulder. “Not exactly a soft landing. And I’m naked. Great. Thanks for letting me know that would happen, asshole. At least I didn’t land in the middle of downtown traffic.”
“Holy. Shit.” A familiar voice swore from somewhere behind her.
Dorothy’s chin dropped to her chest in resignation. Of course she was here. “You okay, Emily?”
“I’m naked.”
She sounded so shocked that Dorothy had to laugh. “Join the club. I’d be worried, only I’m lying in a forest when I was just on the beach, the sun is shining and it looks like there’s an extra moon in the sky. Priority wise, naked isn’t exactly at the top of my list.”
“I think I’m looking at priority number one.” There was a strange timber to Emily’s voice, so strange that Dorothy got to her feet in concern. As she rounded the base of the large, purple tree, she didn’t have to ask what Emily was referring to.
“Come on, Z, you’ve got to be kidding me. A centaur?” The man-horse shuffled backward, widening his stance to aim his bow at them both. He certainly looked realistic enough. And he seemed nearly as pissed as she was.
Dorothy couldn’t decide what to cover as he openly eyed her naked body. If this were an ordinary situation, she’d no doubt be mortified. Right now, irritation reigned. When she got her hands on that wizard… “Emily, get off your butt and come stand beside me, okay?”
Emily shook her head frantically, but she did as she was told. She stopped and squeaked with fright when the centaur aimed the bow her way. “This is a dream, right? Is it food poisoning again? I ate some leftover lasagna for lunch.”
Dorothy ignored her and kept her eyes on the mythological creature threatening them. “Can you understand us? Who are you?”
He raised one brow disdainfully at her question. “I am Braxim of the Equus Clan. Who are you? And why do you speak the name of our Wizard? Did she send you to distract him with your wiles?”
Dorothy snorted. “Oh yeah, I’ve got miles of wiles. And I’m here because Z invited me. Sort of.”
“Lies. He has brought no one to our camps to service him before. She might think we’d believe it of him, knowing his proclivities, but she has never seen him at war. Now—”
“Braxim?” Emily cowered behind her, shivering, and Dorothy glared at the tall equine. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but before you finish what promises to be a righteous and epic rant, I suggest you either shoot us or give us something to cover ourselves with. We’re not nudists and we’ve both had a rough day.”
He looked uncertain for a moment, his gaze drawn over her shoulder to the terrified Emily. His expression softening, he lowered his bow, reached into the pack thrown across his back and tossed them a shirt and a blanket. Dorothy handed the long shirt to Emily, wrapping the blanket around her body like a sarong. It was itchy and not all that flattering, but at least it covered everything important. “Thank you.”
He nodded, face sharpening with appreciation at the sight of Emily in what Dorothy could only assume was his shirt. She rolled her eyes. Males were all the same.