Page 5

“Don't you have underwear on your planet?” I asked as I started the engine.

Kaspian, who'd been wriggling about in his seat, jerked his attention from his crotch to me. “We wear loose, lightweight shorts. Nothing like these. They . . .” He leaned closer and whispered, “feel like I'm being held .”

I pressed my lips together so I wouldn't laugh in his face, and busied myself with pulling out onto the street. Salem's the capital of Oregon, but it's still kinda a small town. Not too much traffic in the middle of a work day. So, it required hardly any concentration to get going, but I wasn't going to touch that comment.

Then he went on, “Do you not agree? Or do you wear a different style?”

I couldn't hold back my chuckle that time.

“What's so humorous?”

“You. The way you see things and, well, experience things. Stuff I've never thought about.” I shrugged. “I guess that makes sense, what with you experiencing all of this for the first time. But your perspective gives something so basic, like a pair of tighty whities, an entirely new spin.”

“Tighty whities?”

The way he said the words made them sound absurd. They are absurd, aren't they? So, I laughed again. “That's just slang for that type of underwear. Because they're snug and white.”

“Ah. I see.”

“And now that you've pointed it out, I agree it does feel like I'm being held. But with my jeans on over them, I don't really notice.” I glanced at the jeans he wore. “I'm surprised you're more interested in the underwear than the outerwear.”

“These are not to my liking.” Kaspian frowned at the denim. “They feel like a commoner's trousers.”

I laughed again. “They're very popular here and can actually range in price from the affordable—which I bought you since I'm not rich—to the extravagant. But you're right. They began as work clothes because the fabric is so hardy.”

“Then why are they popular?”

“Because people discovered that after a few washes, the fabric gets really comfortable. You gotta break them in, and then you'll like them. Trust me. And there are ways to cut jeans and design them to flatter the body. Especially the ass.”

He considered this. He considered it for so long that I looked over at him. Kaspian was looking at me. Low.

I cleared my throat.

Kaspian met my stare. “Yes, they look good on you. And I noticed the way they defined your ass. I will give these pants more time so that I might adjust to them.”

I gaped at him.

“Demetrius!”

I slammed on the brakes before I hit the stopped car in front of me. Then I waved apologetically at the startled woman staring at me through her rearview mirror.

“Shit,” I whispered.

“I've spoken too familiarly with you.”

“No, it's fine.”

“I don't think it is.” He grimaced. “I was trying to flatter you.”

“Oh, you did.”

“Then, why are you upset? Do you not enjoy having sex with men?”

I flinched as he should have done earlier, jerking my head toward him as my eyes went wide.

“Ah. Well, that's a shame. I was hoping to fuck you.”

I let out a little squeak.

Kaspian frowned at me. “Have I offended you now? Are humans of this world so savage that they don't find pleasure in the same sex?”

“No,” I whimpered. Then I cleared my throat. “Uh, I, um. We do find pleasure . . . uh. Actually, I only enjoy sex with men.”

“Oh?” Kaspian brightened. “Do you prefer to give or receive?”

“Um.”

A horn blared, and I jerked my attention forward. The light had turned green. I started driving again. This time, focusing more on the road than Kaspian.

“That was a horrible sound!” Kaspian turned in his seat to glare at the car behind us. “Is it a call to war?”

As if the driver could hear Kas, the car dropped back several feet.

“It's the horn from their vehicle.” I grabbed his shoulder and pulled to get him to face forward. “And it's acceptable here. We use it to let other drivers know that something needs their attention. Like when they're stopped at a green light. Or when they're about to hit something.”

“A green light?”

I sighed. “There's a lot you're going to have to learn.”

“Which is why I'm asking.”

“The lights that hang above street intersections are to direct traffic. When it's time for you to go, the light facing you will turn green. When it's time to stop, it turns red.”

“You humans are a baffling people.” He shook his head.

“If we didn't direct traffic, people would crash into each other.”

“Can't they see the vehicles? Why wouldn't they stop?”

“Because we can go very fast in these vehicles and it can take some time to stop. This way, we can drive through intersections without worrying about another car coming from the side. We trust them to obey the lights and stop. It's simple. We take turns.”

“What magic powers the lights?”

“It's called electricity. It's sort of like, uh, lightning. We create lightning—and don't ask me how. I'm not that smart—and then we direct it through cables. Big metal wires. Those cables go to things like traffic lights and people's homes. I'll show you what else we power with electricity in just a few minutes.”

“Why a few minutes?”

“Because we're almost to my place.”

“Ah, so you will give me lodging? That's very kind of you.”

“It's not much. Just a little craftsman with a yard out back. This is South Salem, one of the older neighborhoods. But I love it. It's got history. I like things with history.”

“What is the history of your home?”

“Oh. Uh, I just mean it's been around awhile. Families have lived in it before me.”

“How old is it?”

“It was built in 1910.” I glanced at him and saw his blank look. Damn, if this guy's crazy, he's deep in Lala-land. Then I remembered the fire and how it just stopped burning. If he was in Lala-land, I was right there with him. “The current year is 2025. So, the house is over a hundred years old.”

Kaspian snorted. “I'm older than that.”

I took a turn onto my street, then comprehension hit. “You're older than a century?”

“I'm 256 years old. I've been ruling Aravult for 63 years.”

“Holy fucking shit,” I whispered. “You guys live that long?”

“We live forever. All the races of Serai do. All but the humans.” Kas lifted a brow at my expression. “That does not make us invulnerable. We can be killed. Though not easily. Certainly not by humans.” His stare shifted out of the window to the homes with gardens full of daffodils, Japanese maples, and fluffy cherry blossom trees. “Every home has a garden. How pretty.”

“People don't have gardens in Aravult?”

“Not like this. Those who live in cities have homes built much closer together. There are . . . parks for enjoying nature.”

“We have cities like that too.”

“You do?” He looked at me with lifted brows. “Do you fly in those air machines there?”

“You can take a plane to the cities, yes. But we restrict airplanes to certain areas of the sky, so the sound of their engines doesn't bother people who live below.”

“How loud are these machines?”

“Very. Much louder than that horn you heard earlier.” I turned into my driveway. “This is it.”

My craftsman stood about forty feet back from the road with an attached garage. I pulled into the garage slowly, so Kaspian could get a look at the simple but sturdy architecture and the green color scheme I'd opted for. He didn't say anything, and I suddenly wished I had the opposite of a craftsman—a Victorian. My house was part of the Arts & Crafts movement that had been a big middle finger to the Victorian age of excess.

Why do people have to go to such extremes? Maybe we just get sick of things and need to do the opposite for a bit. So, all that frilly, ornate Victorian stuff literally went out the window in the late 1800s and gave birth to homes like mine. Simple lines. Practical designs. Built-in shelves and double-hung windows. As I said, I loved my home. But would it impress a king? Hardly.

With a sigh, I parked my Ford and pushed the button on my seatbelt. At least I had a nice truck. When I looked up at Kaspian, I found him smiling.

“I like the look of your home, Demetrius. The beams are strong, and your roof has very interesting covers.”

“Oh, the, uh, shingles. You like those? I had to get a new roof put on last year. Fucking expensive, but what are you gonna do? A house needs a roof. If you leave it to leak, you run the risk of damage or electrical issues. The house could burn down because the damn roof is leaking.”

Kaspian blinked.

“Sorry. That was too much. I'm glad you like it. Come on.” I got out of the truck, hiding my smile, and grabbed his shopping bag. It was just the outside of the house. He hadn't seen inside yet. He could quickly change his mind.

I let us in through the garage door. It opened onto the laundry room, with a little sink, washer, dryer, and a table. A step up took us into the kitchen. I tossed my keys into a bowl near the door, set the bag on the floor, and went to the fridge. After grabbing a couple of beers, I closed the fridge and noticed that Kaspian was still in the laundry room, peering into the washing machine.

He looked up. “What is this contraption?”

I popped the caps off the bottles and went to lean in the doorway. With one shoulder propped against the frame, I passed him a bottle. “That washes my clothes. The one next to it dries my clothes after I wash them.” I clicked my bottle against his and took a swig.

“Amazing,” Kaspian murmured, then took a drink. His eyes widened, and he lifted the bottle to peer at it. “What is this? It reminds me of a beverage we have on Serai, but this is . . . there are flavors in it I've never tasted in our drink.”

“It's beer. I splurge and get the good stuff. That one's made here, in Oregon. Up in Portland.”

“Portland?”

I shook my head and headed through the kitchen. “At this rate, we'll never finish a conversation. Come on. I'll show you around.”

“Beer? This is ale? So, it is the same drink we make on Serai. But what is this flavor?”

I looked down at the bottle and grimaced. “Uh, raspberries.”

“What?”

“The beer has berries in it. I like a little fruitiness. I think it tones down the hops.”

“It's amazing. Thank you.” He took another sip. Then he noticed the fridge and opened it. Glaring at me, he declared, “It's cold! You have Water Magic!”

“That would be science again.” I shut the fridge door. “This is a refrigerator. We keep food in it. It's where I got the beers from.”

“Yes, we have a similar device. It's called a cold cabinet. But it runs on magic.”

“You have refrigerators? Huh. Well, this one runs on electricity. Remember the lightning? It goes into this thing through a cord and powers the motor, which then sets these coils to cooling. Again, I don't know the specifics of how it works. I don't make them. I just buy them.”

“How can you have such devices and not know how they work?”

“I do know how it works. I just told you. But it's a complicated thing. Could you explain how magic works?”

Kaspian cocked his head. “Huh. Well, I suppose I couldn't. I call upon it, and it comes to me. I know what it does, but not how it does it.”

“There you go.” I waved at him, then at the sink. “That's a sink. Water comes through pipes and out of the faucet.”

Kas rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know about plumbing.”

“So, you guys have showers, tubs, sinks, and toilets?”

“Yes. They do not need magic. That is simply pressurized water.”

“So, you do have science on your planet.”

“Is that science?” Kaspian's eyes went wide. “Then we could do what you do? We could make machines without magic?”

“I don't see why not.” I shrugged. “You just need people to figure it out.”

“Getting people to change is difficult.” He grunted and stepped into the living room. “So, what is the name of this city?”

“Salem. It's the capital.”

“What's a capital? My mind tells me it's a large letter.”

I snorted a laugh. “I guess you only get explanations that make sense to you. The stuff you're familiar with.”

“That could be.” He motioned for me to go on.

“A capital is a large letter and is also a seat of government. Every state has a capital city where we come together to decide on laws. Stuff like that.”

“Ah! It's equivalent to our crown cities, where the kings rule.”

“How many kings do you have?” I paused just inside the living room.

“Hundreds. And those are only the Dragons. Other races have kings as well. But those kings defer to Dragon kings. We rule the world.”

“Of course you do.” I rolled my eyes.

Kas didn't catch my sarcasm. How could he when he was already abandoning our conversation to examine the furniture? He ran his hand over my leather couch, tapped the top of a lamp, and picked up the remote control from the coffee table. Distracted by it, he set his beer down on the table and turned the remote over in his hands.

“Don't press any of those buttons!” I grabbed the remote from him.

“Why not?” He was back to glaring at me.

“It turns on the TV.” I motioned at the flatscreen.

“What is that?”

“You're not ready for it.”

“I will determine what I am not ready for.” He crossed his thick arms.

“I'm telling you. A television is too much for you right now.”

“Don't be absurd. I'm a Dragon King. Nothing is too much for me.”

I crossed my arms to match his stance. “Do you remember those stories I was talking about?”

“Do you mean tales like my make-believe kingdom?” His glare intensified.

“Yes. I mean, not your kingdom, but stories about make-believe things. And we don't just tell stories through books. We can record . . . uh, plays to watch whenever we wish. Do you have plays?”

“Of course, we have plays! We are not heathens.”

I snorted. “Well, we can capture plays with our science machines. They take pictures of . . . ugh, forget this shit.” I turned on the television. I go the Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu route when I watch TV, but when I turn it on, it automatically brings up a free cable channel. Of all things, one of the X-Men movies was playing—a fucking battle scene, no less. Men and women in snug suits flew across the sky, lasers shooting from their eyes and butts. Okay, not their butts. I don't have to explain the X-Men. It was your standard superhero shit. But not standard for an alien. Kaspian roared and lurched backward to fall onto his ass.

My ass got laughed off, sending me into a forward bend to brace myself on my thighs.

The laughter clued him in, and Kaspian swiveled his head to glare at me yet again.

“Don't look at me like that.” I pointed at him as I continued to chuckle. “I warned you.”

“What is this? How is this possible?” He gaped at the TV, sitting forward and crossing his legs.

I went to sit beside him on the rug. “This is called a movie. Short for moving pictures. It took many years to develop the process. The first of them were silent and in black and white. But then we figured out how to color them and record sound. Now, the technology keeps advancing faster and faster. Every year it seems as if they can do cooler stuff than the year before. We can make it look as if men fly or transform into big green monsters.” I waved at the Hulk. “We call it special effects.”

“This isn't real?”

“No. It's more of that make-believe. It's all done with machines. Computers, to be exact. And you need to believe me when I say that you're not ready for computers.” I got up and held a hand down to him. “Come on. I'll show you the rest of the house.”

Kaspian looked from the television to my hand, then clasped palms with me. He stood up, using mostly his own strength, and nodded. But his stare kept straying back to the movie, so I turned it off.

“This way.” I put the remote on the coffee table.

“You turn it off so easily.”

“That's how it works. That's why I warned you not to touch the buttons. They're what turn the television on and off.” I went down the hallway. “This will be your room. I don't get a lot of guests, but I like to have a guest room in case a buddy comes in from out of town. I don't . . . my family's gone. So, uh, yeah, no family coming to visit.”

Kaspian had been inspecting the simple room—in particular, he was eyeing the bed—but he stopped and turned toward me. “What do you mean gone?”

“They're deceased. I've got some aunts and uncles. Cousins. But my parents passed away a few years ago. First Dad, then Mom quickly followed. She just wasn't . . . yeah, she loved him a lot. They had me later in life. So, they weren't as young as you might think.”

“I'm sorry, Demetrius. No siblings?”

“Nah. Just me. I'm good though. I don't need all that stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“You know, holidays when you get together with your family and celebrate. Do you guys have holidays?”

Kaspian frowned over the word, then said, “We have ceremonies for our gods and special days in honor of them. Usually, that's done as a community, but there are some days that we celebrate with our closest relatives.”

“So, we're not so different.”

His expression softened. “No, we're not.”

I cleared my throat. “Uh, the bathroom is over here.” I motioned down the hall. “It's small. Just the basics. But I've got soap and stuff in the shower and fresh towels on the rack. Help yourself.” I went back to the living room, Kaspian trailing after me. “Upstairs is the main bedroom and bath. That's it.”

“I like it very much.” Kaspian wandered back to the kitchen and picked up his shopping bag. He glanced out the window at the backyard and nodded. “This is a good home.”

“Thanks. Here.” I took his bag. “I'll put that in your room. Go sit down in the living room and enjoy your beer.”

“Thank you.”

Back into the living room we went. I took his stuff to the guest room and took a moment to compose myself. What do I do with Kaspian now? Netflix and chill? Should I take him out and show him what little there was to see in Salem? Maybe to a restaurant? Or is that too much? Maybe it would overwhelm him. He's probably exhausted from traveling. I snorted hysterically to myself.

“Yeah, world-hopping must be exhausting,” I muttered and went out to the living room.

Kaspian was sitting on the couch, drinking his beer as if he had one every day. He looked utterly at home and damn if those clothes didn't up his hotness factor.

“What's wrong?” Kas asked.

“Nothing. I'm just trying to remember where I left my beer.”

“It's right there.” He pointed with his beer bottle—just a normal dude.

“Thanks.” I followed his direction to the kitchen and found my beer on the island. I didn't even remember putting it down. Taking a big swig, I turned around and found Kaspian standing a foot away. I nearly spat beer on him. Luckily, I'm a master at swallowing and got it down. Then I gasped, “Don't sneak up on me like that.”

“I didn't sneak. Kings never sneak.” He scowled. “I want to see more.”

“That's all there is. We can go in the backyard if you want.”

“No. I mean, of your world. Show me your world, Demetrius.”