Arriving at the dark house, she swallowed down her trepidation. It's fine, Grace told herself. It's totally fine. She was hooking up for the first time in ages with a guy she genuinely liked, to whom she was extremely attracted; she was going to his house, she was alone in the dark, and it was going to bejust fine.This is why you shouldn’t have stopped taking Prozac.
The troll family — a professional couple and their eight rambunctious children — had lived in a grand house on a large wooded lot. She was familiar with the neighborhood, and Merrick had provided exacting directions before kissing her on the cheek, gathering himself up and launching straight up into the air, his giant wings catching easily. His instructions had been to pull past the house, following the driveway until she’d reached the large barn, and he’d be waiting for her there. The large red barn loomed ahead as she pulled up the long driveway, edging past the house until the concrete turned to gravel. Merrick was nowhere to be found, but as she stepped from the car, she was able to see dozens of flickering lights in the dark field beyond, a sight that was as spellbinding as it was unexpected.Lanterns, she realized. Suddenly Merrick was there, melting out of the darkness like a tall shadow, smiling as she stepped from the car.
He’d lined a path through the darkness for her, the flickering lanterns giving the journey across the long meadow a storybook feel as she gripped his strong arm, holding her basket of berries tightly in the crook of the other, unsure of where she was being led. Fireflies flickered and danced, bobbing between the lanterns as she passed, crickets chirped, and she could hear the occasional flutter of wings, either bats or starlings, swooping overhead. It was magical. She'd witnessed moments like this before, on the farm — long after the workers had left for the day and the livestock secured in their pens. Caleia’s ancient tree would be lit with fairy lights, the sound of tree frogs and cicadas and the lone, melancholy strains of a violin coming from Callum’s small cottage splitting the night, making her feel a million miles away from the city, despite being just outside it.
Merrick had wrapped his spindly fingers securely over the hand she’d circled around his forearm, leading her through the glimmering darkness with careful, confident steps. Gliding through the lantern-lit field with him was like something out of a fairytale, and in those brief moments she forgot her nerves, forgot the invisibility she’d felt for the past decade, forgot that she’d been out of the game for what felt like an eternity. There was nothing in the world but her, the tall moth at her side, and this beautiful field of flickering gold.He’s sweet and funny and he made this magical field of light just for you.
The trail of lanterns ended as the forest abruptly rose up at the edge of the meadow, black and ominous and full of whispers, and Grace remembered that fairy tales often had dark twists and turns. The tall trees blocked out the light of the bright moon, and the flickering lanterns at her back cast jumping shadows at her feet, adding to the rising panic that suddenly suffused her without welcome. Anxiety had always been a tricksy squatter in her life, often letting her think it had gone for good, just before popping out to ruin a good mood, as it did then.
Her feet had turned to lead at the treeline, leaving her slightly breathless, gulping down her nerves. There had been a short-tempered boggart who lived in the woods behind her grandparent’s house when she was a child. There had been an incident with the creature involving her older brother when she was just a baby, and while she never knew the specifics, she’d heard whispers of the Otherworld over the years, and she’d never been allowed to play there unsupervised, her head filled with stories of the dangers that lurked in the trees, particularly after dark. The woods beyond her now were black as pitch, and the soft sounds of the open field seemed distant as she strained to listen for the snapping of twigs that might indicate something lurking ahead.
Merrick's wings fluttered as she jerked to a stop, looking down in concern, his long antennae twitching. "It-it's only a little ways in," he stammered, loosening his grip on her arm, to her dismay. His forehead bunched at her obvious panic, antennae flattening out against his head. "I-I don't want you to be uncomfortable or a-afraid . . . this was a bad idea. I’m so sorry . . . let me walk you back to your car at least." The confidence he’d had in the dark berry patch shriveled in the face of her hesitation, the nervous stammer and twitchiness he’d displayed the very first night he’d sought her out at the farm returning, his shoulders hunching and wings fluttering anxiously. When he gingerly took her arm again, it was with the very tips of his fingers, his body angled away from hers.
The entire evening — soft and perfect and lovely as it had been—came crashing down around her as he clicked in distress, turning to lead her back through the romantic field he’d prepared so that she’d be able to see her way through the darkness.
“Wait!”
His jaw clenched, his antennae remained low against his head, and the way he held himself carefully away from her was enough to snap her out of the momentary panic. Wrapping her hand around his, she looked up imploringly, but his red eyes were resolutely fixed above her head, away from hers for the first time that night. “Wait, I-I don’t want to leave. I just—”
“It’s fine, Grace. You don’t need to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he interrupted gently. “I-I don’t want you to be afraid...of me.”
Her head whipped up at his words.He thinks you’re afraid ofhim?!“No! That’s not it at all! I-I’m not afraid of you, of course I’m not afraid of you!”
“The humans I’ve worked with—”
“I’m nothing like the humans you’ve worked with,” she cut him off. “And I told you before, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Or at least as long as you’re here. You’re probably not even the only mothman on this block, did you know that? You need to start socializing.” Questioning red eyes met hers at last, and she took the opportunity to thread her fingers with his, squeezing lightly. “It’s the woods . . . I’ve always been afraid of the woods.”
“The woods?” he echoed with a cock of his head, glancing to the dark trees. “It-it’s only a little ways . . . you don’t need to go into the woods, it’s fine. Let me walk you back to—”
“No!” Now both hands wrapped around his arm, and she found herself tugging him forward, towards the black forest. “I don’t want to go home . . . unless you want me to leave.” The thought brought heat to her cheeks, but he quickly shook his head, antennae bobbing.
“No, of course not. It-it really is just a little ways in.” He stared at her hands wrapped around his arm as he spoke, his wings twitching. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
His voice was low, a deep vibration that she felt buzz up her back and she shivered, stepping a bit closer to his warmth. “Well, lead the way. Just don’t let go of my hand.”
True to his word, the large tree was less than twenty feet into the dark forest and she remained unmolested, Merrick’s strong arm beneath hers and a guiding hand at her back, ensuring she didn’t stumble or fall. There was a circular staircase wrapping up the base of the tree and a glance upwards showed a long climb into the dark branches above.
“This is going to be a lot faster if you let me . . .” Grace didn't balk when he scooped her up, bridal style.
She expected to be assaulted with branches as he shot into the air, but within a matter of what seemed like seconds, they'd arrived at the circular platform he called home, and she realized just how high up they were. Walking to the railing once her knees had stopped shaking, she couldn’t suppress a gasp as she looked out over the edge. The view was spectacular.
The entire forest was laid out before her, and the valley beyond. The open fields of farmland, the winking lights of the Cambric Creek — they were all visible as she stood breathless at the top of the world.
“It’s a great view,” he murmured unnecessarily, the heat of him close at her back. He stepped away quickly when she turned, relieving her of the basket and throwing his arm open. “Make yourself at home.”
The entire space was one giant room, the only walls belonging to two partitioned areas that hugged the trunk, a bathroom and perhaps a laundry facility, she assumed. A thick tube of cables ran up the tree, humming with energy, and realized that it must have been the electric and plumbing lines. A retractable roof and screened surround kept the treetop dwelling protected from the elements, he explained.
“They spent an obscene amount of money on this thing, but the rent’s not terrible,” Merrick laughed, crossing the expansive space. There was a work table, cluttered with papers and books and several large tanks, which he leaned over. There was flitting movement in one of the tanks, and as she moved to stand at his side, she saw what she thought must be bumblebees.
“Hummingbirds,” he corrected. “Black-throated mangoes. They’re native to South America. I spent three semesters there a few years ago, and one of my colleagues in that lab sent me the eggs after their nests were destroyed in a storm. We don’t know what happened to their mothers. I incubated these four, but their circadian rhythm orgainzation is all over the place, which is what I’m studying . . . you’re supposed to be asleep,” he scolded the tiny birds, and she had to reach out to steady herself on the table, lest she melt into a puddle of smitten goo as he fed the birds with a tiny dropper, scratching each one gently on the neck before turning away to jot something in a notebook next to their enclosure.
“Maybe they’re just following along with what they see their new momma doing,” she laughed, remembering the story he’d told her about the bats he’d weaned.
He smiled as he wrote, giving her a flash of those small fangs again before clicking in disapproval at the buzzing little balls of feathers. “Well, that’s a working theory. They’re contrary little brats, that’s another.”
The heat she felt curl through her core reminded her why she was there — she was going to learn what his weight felt like above her, how soft his velvety skin would be against every part of her. “So, your prior experiences with your co-workers . . . does this mean you’ve never dated a human before?”Neverbeenwith a human . . .
“No, I haven’t.” His voice was low as he clicked and shook out his mantle, avoiding her eye. “I hope I’m not doing everything wrong.”