Jocelynn Drake - [Asylum Tales 02] (24 page)

20

SOMEONE WAS HUMMING.

It was my first conscious thought the next morning. I lay in bed, trying to place the voice, since I knew it wasn’t Trixie and there should have been no other woman in my apartment. The night before, I had stumbled into my place, where I ate and showered then settled down on the sofa with a large sketch pad. My brother sat on the other end of the couch, watching a movie while I made plans. I had an idea of how I would save Robert, but the tattoo would be complicated. Around midnight, I stumbled to my bed and was asleep before I could finish pulling up my blankets.

But now I could hear humming, close and clear. It wasn’t coming through an open window because I never slept with an open window. They were too hard to put protective spells over. I didn’t recognize the tune, but it sounded like it belonged in a Disney cartoon.

Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I lifted my head and looked around, half expecting to see that I had forgotten to shut a window before falling asleep. Instead, I found a woman dressed in what appeared to be a Victorian maid’s uniform standing at the end of my bed, folding my underwear.

I jerked upright, pulling my blanket up to my chin like some flustered virgin. “What the fuck?” I blurted in a sleep-roughened voice.

The woman’s face popped up and she smiled brightly, her lovely blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight that was pouring through my open blinds. “Good morning, Master Powell,” she greeted cheerfully as she dipped into a quick curtsy. She sounded so damn chipper that I half expected to see little blue birds fluttering about her, singing some goddamn melody to shred the bits of my brain still clinging to sleep. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I am NOT a morning person.

“I am dreadfully sorry to disturb you, but we must get going soon,” she continued, resuming the task of folding the pair of boxers in her hand.

“Going? Going where? No!” I said, holding up one hand as she opened her mouth to answer. I dropped my blanket to my lap, somewhat grateful that I had chosen not to sleep in the nude. “First, who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?”

“Oh, terribly sorry,” she murmured with a blush staining her plump, round cheeks. “My name is Holly and her ladyship sent me to fetch you. You have an appointment with her this afternoon.”

“Her ladyship?” I repeated dully. I wasn’t particularly sharp upon waking either. “You mean Gaia?”

Holly nodded as she carried a stack of my underwear over and placed it in one of the bureau drawers as if she had done so a thousand times before.

“Fine. Then why are you folding my underwear?”

“Oh, that,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand and a giggle. “I arrived a while ago, but I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up, so I passed the time tidying up. You had quite a bit of dirty laundry that needed doing.”

At her words, I looked around the room. The enormous mound of dirty clothes in the corner and scattered around the room was missing. Hell, it even looked as if she had vacuumed my floor. The garbage and dirty glasses on the bedside table were missing. The door was open to my closet and I could see that not only had all my dirty clothes been cleaned and hung, but she had organized the clothes according to type and color. I flopped back on my pillows and covered my face with both hands.

“How long have you been here?”

“Mmm . . . only four hours.”

I dropped my hands and stared at her. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

She giggled once more and shook her head as she came to stand at the foot of my bed again. “I couldn’t do that, silly. You were exhausted and you’re going to need energy for today.”

I wanted to pursue that comment, but my brain was too sluggish. I might have been awake, but it was unlikely that profound thought was going to start happening until I had my first cup of coffee.

“Fine,” I said. “When do we have to leave?”

Holly tilted the little watch pinned to her blouse toward her face, squinting slightly at the time. Dropping it back down over her heart, she smiled at me. “Five minutes.”

I bolted upright in bed. “What?”

“We must leave in five minutes,” she repeated with the same effervescent charm.

“Then get out of here, woman!” I barked, throwing back the covers, no longer caring what the hell she saw. “I’ve got to get dressed.”

The strange woman giggled as she scurried out of the room, closing the door behind her as I darted to the closet and started pulling out clothes. I didn’t know what you wore to a meeting with Gaia, but I was hoping that she wasn’t picky. My escort hadn’t thought to give me time to properly prepare. I simply grabbed my one black polo shirt that didn’t have a hole in it and my dark blue jeans that had a hole in the back pocket. If I survived all this fucking chaos, I needed to look into a couple new shirts and pants. At my current rate, I was throwing out more clothes at the end of the day than I was keeping.

Grabbing shoes and socks, I ran to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth and pissed at the same time while trying to ignore the fact that everything gleamed brightly. I leaned against the wall as I pulled on socks and boots. A quick glance in the mirror revealed that my hair was a mess, but at least my shirt was right side out. I also needed to shave, but there was no time. Mother Nature was going to have to deal with it.

Holly was waiting in the living room next to the front door when I left the bathroom. She clapped her hands and gave a little bounce when she saw me. “Very good. You’re right on time,” she cheered.

My gaze skimmed over the rest of the apartment only to find it in immaculate condition. I dreaded having to explain this one to Trixie if she happened to stop over before I could return it to its usual slovenly state. However, I was grateful to see that Holly had even patched the enormous hole in the ceiling. Overall, I was having trouble believing what she had accomplished while I was apparently dead to the world.

Robert was sprawled on the couch, one leg up on the back while the other was dangling off the end. A blanket was pulled half over him and he was snoring softly. He was dead to the world, oblivious to the fact that a perky woman had been cleaning around him for roughly four hours.

As I looked toward the kitchen, my eyes caught on the clock hanging on the wall.

“It’s only eight in the morning!” I said, struggling to keep my voice at a whisper. I was never up before noon if I could help it. Consciousness at this hour of the day was . . . it was just unhealthy.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve been here for four hours?”

“Yes.” Her cheerfulness never wavered.

I shook my head, forcing my brain to stop trying to understand her. It wasn’t possible. “Let me grab my keys. I’m guessing you’re driving . . . or do you want me to?”

“No need.” Holly placed her hand on my shoulder and the world went black for a second before I found myself standing near a large red barn at the edge of a vast green field bathed in golden sunlight. The air was cool and crisp without being uncomfortable.

There had been none of the usual sense of movement across space that typically accompanied a teleportation spell. This had been soft and subtle like a whisper, making it extremely frightening. I was dealing with some powerful creatures, and by all appearances, Holly was only a servant.

“ ’Bout time you got here,” announced a gruff voice. We both turned to see a man stomp out of the darkness of the barn in a pair of worn overalls and mud-caked work boots. A straw hat was pulled low on his head, casting his dark eyes in shadow as he frowned at me.

Beside me, Holly checked her little watch again and then turned a scowl on the man. “We’re right on time and you know it!” she argued, but the sour mood faded like a flicker of lightning as she turned to look at me. “We are on time, but Rocky likes to be contrary. You’ll be helping him today. Good luck.” She gave me what I’m sure she thought was a reassuring pat on the shoulder and then stepped back before disappearing completely.

I had opened my mouth to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but it was too late. Frowning, I looked over at the man who was watching me with a grim expression. He didn’t look like he was going to be too helpful, but he was all I had. Standing in the barnyard, I realized that I didn’t know where the hell I was, and while I was sure that I could get myself home, I had a feeling that leaving would not get me one step closer to talking to Gaia.

“Well, I guess we better get at it. We’re wasting daylight,” the man grumbled before turning back to reenter the barn. With a shake of my head, I followed after him, but paused just past the threshold, blinking as my eyes struggled to adjust from the bright sunlight to the darkened barn. As the world came into focus, I could make out various pieces of farm equipment, stacks of hay bales, and a few stalls. By the sounds of shuffling and heavy breathing, they were occupied by horses.

“Here,” Rocky said, throwing clothing at me. I attempted to catch it, but wasn’t fast enough. One boot and half of the overalls remained in my arms while the other boot bounced off my chest and hit the wooden floor. “Put that on so you won’t get your fancy clothes dirty, city boy.”

“Wait!” I snapped, letting everything fall to the ground. “What are you talking about? Why am I going to get dirty?”

Rocky sneered at me, his face becoming a mass of wrinkles and weathered skin. “You want your meeting with Ma, don’t you?”

“Ma? You mean Mother Nature?”

The man gave a little snort. “You’re not too quick in the morning, are you? Yeah, I mean Mother Nature. You want your meeting or not?”

“Yes.”

“Then you work. If you’re lucky enough to get a meeting with the old girl, you have to earn your way in to see her. You work hard enough, the faster you see her. You get me?”

My shoulders slumped but I nodded. “Yeah, I got it.” I should have known getting in to see Gaia wasn’t going to be that easy. This certainly wasn’t the way I had expected to spend my morning, but I could put in a few hours of hard labor if it meant helping the elves.

Bending down, I picked up the clothes that he threw at me. The overalls were big enough to go over the clothes I was already wearing, but I had to sit on a bale of hay to switch out my scuffed up boots for a pair of worn, dirt-encrusted boots.

“Come on, slowpoke,” Rocky called as soon as I finished lacing the second boot.

Clomping through the barn in the heavy shoes, I trailed after the older man and headed across the large field. I didn’t try to talk to him, or even ask him where we were. Rocky didn’t strike me as the talkative type. As Holly said, he was a contrary kind of person and I had a feeling he’d refuse to answer to spite me.

We walked in silence for nearly fifteen minutes until we crossed a split-rail fence and came up to another barn. This one was twice the size of the first and painted white. The scent of manure filled the air, threatening to make me gag, but I kept my comments to myself.

Rocky pulled back the door and gave me a shove inside. The interior was brightly lit, but I still found myself blinking at the two neat rows of black-and-white cows sedately chewing on hay. My companion walked over to the side of the barn and picked something up. When he returned, he thrust a stool and a metal pail into my hands.

“When the pail gets full, there are some large containers at the back of the barn. Pour the milk in there. When you’re done with the cow, she’ll know to go on out into the yard,” Rocky informed me.

“You want me to milk all these cows?” I demanded, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

He chuckled. “Quick one, aren’t you? Milk them, and when you’re done, I’ll be back.” Rocky started to turn around and walk out of the barn when something occurred to him, causing him to turn back toward me. “Oh, and a little advice: I wouldn’t use any of your hocus-pocus.” He was laughing to himself when he ambled out of the barn, heading back over the hill we had walked up.

I hadn’t yet thought of using magic. My brain was still trying to comprehend the idea of milking cows. I mean, they had machines for this sort of thing, didn’t they? Even as desperate as I was, I knew not to use magic. Besides being afraid of ripping the udders off the cows with a poorly woven spell, I had a feeling that if I used magic, I would either be whisked back to my apartment without seeing Gaia or I’d be forced to start completely over until I did it right.

Tightly clutching the stool and pail to my chest, I stared at the closest cow, feeling somewhat grateful that it completely ignored me as it focused on the pile of hay directly in front of its face. I could only hope that it stayed that way throughout this ordeal, because I didn’t have a fucking clue as to what I was doing. Oh, I knew the basic idea. Put the pail under the udders, sit on the stool, and squeeze the teats until milk squirted out, but then I was worried that there was more to the job than basic theory. Hell, the closest I had ever been to a living cow was an almost-raw steak smothered in onions and mushrooms from the local steakhouse.

Muttering to myself, I decided to start with theory and adjust from there. I didn’t have a watch on me, but I knew that it took the better part of thirty minutes for me to even start to get the hang of it and then another thirty minutes to squeeze the cow dry. But as Rocky said, as soon as she was empty, the cow slowly trotted out of the barn while I emptied the pail.

I moved to the next cow, finding that it got easier with each one that I finished, but I tried not to think about the fact that there had to be at least fifty cows in that barn. By the time the first row was done, I could barely open and close my hands, they had become so sore. At the three-quarters point, my back ached, my knees were throbbing, and I was pretty sure I’d never drink milk again. I had thought I was in good shape. I might have slowed down in my trips to the gym, but I hadn’t lost all my muscle. There was something about this work that left me with the realization that there were entire muscle groups that I had never used, and they were screaming now.

As the last cow trotted out of the barn, which I could no longer smell, I groaned, holding my sore hands out in front of me. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to move; my body was aching too badly.