I knew I only had the summer to find a solution to the problem – or, at the very least, make things safe enough to return to the group home. The only alternative was Thea adopting me, and I wasn’t going to ask that of her.
I wasn’t going to ask her for anything permanent, even when her presence confused me. Which it did, constantly. I liked boys, I knew that much. I didn’t need memories to work that out. So what I felt for her couldn’t be that, but it was definitely something. I sat on the bed I was sleeping on. Rough basement, but it wasn’t really worse than what I was used to. Or maybe I’d been used to other things.
Swords. I was used to swords. I entertained the crazy idea, but not that crazy, that I had somehow been transported here from a fantasy realm. Narnia or Eternia or Middle Earth or something.
Cliched. And clearly not true. Well, except for appearing and disappearing horns that, apparently, wanted to be in my possession.
It wasn’t the horn I held right now, though, but the sword, sheathed across my lap. It didn’t look like something from a fantasy book. It looked very plain…a simple hilt. Not much of a guard.
A viking sword. I’d looked it up. Like Thea’s. Just a plain sword and apparently for intimidating people as much as for killing them.
Which I knew I could do. I knew I had monsters hunting me. And I knew I was quite, quite capable of killing a man, as little as I wanted to. I suspected I’d done it before.
And then came the thud that brought me to my feet, the blade already half drawn before conscious thought entered into the matter.
Somebody was pounding at the door, with far more force than it could hold.
In a moment, they would be inside.