Dangerous Designs (8 page)

"I
don't
work at a corner store," she snapped.

"No, but that's all you're going to be good for with your education level, isn't it." Thank heavens for the comprehensive database they kept on the humans. His studies had allowed for a unique insight to Storey and the society she lived in.

"Arrgh. Who are you to talk?"

She stormed downstairs. The chanting reached them first. Right, preparations for the ceremony. Rather than disturbing them, Storey and Eric made a quick exit out the back door. Eric's pace picked up outside. He practically ran – back in the direction of the damn mine. When they reached the edge of Lewis Park and where she'd told him about the portal, she'd had enough.

"What the hell are we doing back here?" She glared at him and backed up several feet. "We're almost back to where we started."

"We're probably close enough." He dug into his pocket and grabbed a weird silver bracelet that he clasped around his wrist. He tapped a series of buttons on it, filling the air with a musical set of notes.

Story narrowed her eyes at him. "What's that?" she asked suspiciously. "I've never seen anything like it."

"No, it's not common over here."

"Over here?" She surveyed the deserted park and the overgrown path that led to the mine entrance. How come in all the years she'd lived here, she'd never once gone down the path to the mine?

"Yes, over here." He grinned, reached out and grabbed her hand. "Just a few more steps. Here."

Spluttering her protests, she snapped, "I don't want to go with you anymore. I've decided I don't like you. You're beyond irritating, you know that."

A strange voice interjected. "No, he doesn't, but the rest of us do."

CHAPTER SEVEN

S
torey spun around. Her jaw dropped. "Where'd you come from?" she demanded, her eyes locked on the costume-clad man now before her. "You weren't here a second ago."

Her voice rose to a loud gasp and her eyes widened as the wall behind him came into focus. She gulped and spun in a circle. The sky had disappeared. Leaves no longer crunched under her feet and the fresh woodsy scent no longer drifted her way. Her stomach wiggled, then wiggled some more as she gulped for air. Where was she? And how had she gotten here?

They'd been standing beside the creek then...a shudder snapped from her toes to her head with realization. Swallowing hard, she shifted closer to Eric.

The wizened old man with a huge beard and tufts of hair decorating his bald head glared at her. His gaze switched to Eric. "What have you done? Do you know how many rules you've broken?" His voice rose to a high pitched squeak at the end. His hands, fisted on his hips, all but disappeared into the folds of his robes.

Storey studied the angry character in front of her. The angle of his chin, that aristocratic nose tilt, that demanding voice – yeah, he was used to giving orders. And expecting them to be carried out. He was a little out of her experience. She couldn't help asking, "Who are you?"

A piercing blue gaze landed on her and narrowed. "I'm Paxton. And you're Storey Dalton." The gaze shifted to Eric. "Explain."

Eric opened his mouth. No words came out.

"Now." The bright blue gaze hardened to steel. When Eric didn't immediately jump in with an explanation, he added, "You're done. You know that, don't you?"

"I had to," Eric protested. "You don't understand."

"No. I don't." Paxton spread his arms wide. "I can't until you explain."

Eric glanced over at Storey. "Let me have the sketchbook, please."

She gazed at him for a long moment, not fully understanding yet knowing it was important. She handed it over. Her stomach knotted as Eric flipped through the pages, searching for what he wanted. He went too far and had to go back a few pages, letting out a small hiss as he did so.

"Here." He twisted the book and placed it under Paxton's nose.

Paxton's eyes widened. Glancing from Storey to Eric then back again at the picture, he asked, "How?"

"Show him," Eric said to her.

Reaching into her pocket, Storey pulled out her pencil or stylus, as Eric called it, and held it up.

The color leached from Paxton's face and he took a small step back. "No. Oh, no."

"Oh, yes."

"What?" Storey was beyond confused and she had no explanation for the coldness in her stomach. Ice had spread out to her limbs. Wrapping her arms around her belly, she wished she knew what the hell was going on. "Look, I don't understand. What's wrong with that picture? It's just a sketch. It's not real or anything."

"Did you draw this picture?" At Storey's nod, Paxton continued, "With...that?" He pointed to the pencil.

Again she nodded. He closed his eyes and started speaking in some weird language. The same one Eric had used earlier.

"Do you guys belong to the some religious group where you speak in tongues or something? I've never heard a language quite like that."

"You mock us?" shrieked Paxton, stiffening in outrage. "Do you realize what you have done?"

"Obviously not," she snapped. "Since no one will tell me what the hell is going on."

Eric's eyes widened. He stared at her wordlessly.

She glared at Eric, catching his wince before he covered it up. "Now what?"

"We don't swear here. It's considered rude," Eric whispered. "Paxton doesn't know that word but anyone who's studied your language might."

"Rude? I'm supposed to worry about my manners now? What the hell are you talking about? Over where?"

He spluttered. "Please, show some respect. Don't swear."

"All right, geeze." His look didn't improve. "Oh, for crying out loud. Geeze is
not
a swear word." She glowered at him. What was his problem, anyway? And since when had he become such a prude?

Paxton's cheeks sucked in like small craters.

"Whatever." She held out her hand. "I'll take my sketchbook now, thanks." Hand outstretched, she snapped her fingers when Eric didn't pass it over. "I don't know what game you're playing, and I don't care. I want no part of it. So, I'm going home."

"No, you're not." Paxton drew up to his full height. Storey's gaze widened as he stretched above her. How tall was he?

"You'll stay in our world until we get to the bottom of this."

"Your world," she snapped. "What are you talking about?"

"You are..." Eric paused...took a deep breath...then rushed to get the rest of the sentence out. "You are in another dimension."

"Oh, for the love of God." Storey threw up her hands at the stony looks shooting her way. "Look, I've had enough. You zip me to another dimension, whatever that means, without asking my permission, tell me I can't go home, give no explanation as to what is going on and then expect me to be calm about it!"

Eric reached out a reassuring hand. She stumbled back out of range. "No." She pointed at Paxton and said, "Hell, no."

This time, Eric grabbed her shoulder and gave her a good shake. Glaring down at her, he said, "Stop. I know you don't understand. Just, please, calm down. I
will
explain." He glanced over at the steaming Paxton. "I promise."

Storey stepped back, glaring up at him. "You'd better. And for your information, I swear when I'm pissed off, so don't piss me off. That includes shaking me."

He closed his eyes briefly, dropped his hand and stepped away. "You'd make a saint crazy," he muttered.

Paxton gasped in outrage. "Which you aren't," he roared. "You should be able to control this...this female."

"Control," she gasped in shock. For some reason the whole mess slid from bad into ludicrous. "'I must be having a bad dream. Eric? Control me? I don't think so." She started to giggle.

"Oh, thank you very much. See how she treats me?" He scowled at Paxton. "Why did you have to go and say that?"

"That's enough from both of you. This is no laughing matter. We have a crisis on our hands and need to find a solution." He glanced down at the sketchbook now in his hands. "Quickly. Wait in my office while I call an emergency Council meeting."

Storey was still giggling as they took several more steps, then she stopped. This wasn't just a room. This was some kind of laboratory. Stunned, she could only stare at the pristine white counters, walls, ceilings, even the huge monitors were white with a black trim. "Eric?"

"You're in my world now. It's very similar to yours." He hooked his arm through hers. "Don't panic. Everything is fine. I walked you across a veil that exists between the two worlds."

"Veil?" Easy for him to say. Getting her head wrapped around the concept, not so easy. Still, there was no arguing that she walked on tiles and under some kind of weird fluorescent lights instead of grass and sky. "You're not from my world?"

"Nope." As she stopped in front of a large series of monitors, Eric added by way of an explanation. "It's Paxton's communications center. He controls the crossings."

"There's more than one?" She slid him a sideways look. "Does my side know about your side?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "We don't think so, but it's possible. There are several crossings; we keep most of them shut down. We travel to your side when we have specific research to complete. To the best of our knowledge, there aren't any crossings from your side to ours – at least not regulated ones."

"So, I'm the first to visit?" For some reason that concept tickled her. She'd always wanted to get away from her life. Now she was in the most bizarre, abnormal situation imaginable and didn't know what to think. Contrary was her name. She should be scared, but it was as if the jumps into the mine had prepared her for this eventuality. Well, not quite
this
reality. Then his words penetrated. They'd been coming to her world whenever they wanted to – yet no one at home knew.

"Come this way." Eric tugged her arm, leading her toward a closed door. She followed, trying to take in everything. So similar and yet...different.

Eric looked normal enough. Paxton didn't. He was a little on the odd side. Then again, what if a monk, Goth or a Muslim person came here? Eric's people would consider him representative of her world, too. "This isn't fair. You know how to do all this and we don't."

"Fair?" Paxton ran up behind them. "Look what happens when you do know a little bit." He brushed past and through the door ahead of them.

"Really." She exhaled heavily. "Let's not forget who left a stylus in my world in the first place. I wouldn't have found it if you'd stayed where you belong." She wasn't going to take the blame for this – whatever
this
was. They shouldn't have sneaked over to her side. Having perpetrated one wrong, they shouldn't have compounded it by leaving something dangerous behind.

"I know."

"Come, come. Don't dawdle. We don't have time. Everyone is almost here." Paxton hurried ahead of them, tossing an urgent look back their way.

Storey didn't get it. "How did everyone manage to get here in the time it took me to walk the length of the floor?"

"Things are a bit different here." He grinned down at her. "You'll see."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she muttered. "Some info would be helpful. Does everyone look like you and Paxton, for a start? I don't want to walk into that room and find talking alligators or some such thing."

He laughed. "No, we all look like you. Although, we call ourselves Torans. And Paxton is a little more unique than the rest of us."

"Is that what you call it?"

Eric stopped at the doorway, twisting to look down on her. "You're stalling. You can do this. Heck, I even went to school and attended classes with you. How bad can this be?"

Glaring at him, she stormed through the doorway and came to a sudden halt on the other side. "No one ever smiles in your world, do they?"

The normal looking room was full. Crowding around a large oval table in the middle of the room were dozens of people and even more stood in the back. Everyone stared, frowning at her. Too bad. Her dreams of a magical world spiriting her away went up in smoke. They all looked depressingly normal.

"They aren't that bad." Eric stepped forward. Staring ahead, his back straight, he addressed the room formally. "Greetings, Council. May I present Storey Dalton. She's from the other side of the veil."

Storey couldn't help stiffening at the multitude of curious and judgmental looks zeroing in on her.

"So I understand," answered a rotund looking man at the head of the table. So round and short, he took up almost two chairs yet could barely rest his arms on the table. And his face...she shuddered. Beady eyes stared out from between the fat rolls with a power that defied description. "And apparently you are responsible for bringing her here?"

Eric's voice deepened. "That's right, father. I felt it best."

Father?
Storey glanced between the two men, but didn't recognize any family resemblance. One height challenged and the other height gifted. The change in Eric's voice, however, yeah, there was that whole parent relationship mess between them.

"And just how do you think breaking our rules, rules which have held for centuries, I might add, as now being for the 'best?'"

Eric opened his mouth to explain, when Paxton stepped in. "We don't have time to sort out his punishment right now. We have something much bigger to deal with."

"Punishment? You're going to punish him for bringing me here?" Storey couldn't contain her outrage. Whether she wanted to be here or not, she knew Eric believed he'd done the right thing. "In that case, you can send me home. I'm not going to help if he's in trouble over this." It was all she could do to refrain from swearing. If they pissed her off more, then all bets were off.

"Shh. It's all right. I won't be punished."

His father grunted. "We'll make that decision without any input from you. Breaking the law is a very serious offense. It's not like in your world, young lady. We care about doing the right thing here."

"It's hardly admirable that you sit here and criticize my world when you've been sneaking in and out, taking whatever you want, for centuries. That's called stealing in my world. We'll have this discussion after my people's scientists come over here for several hundred years and steal what they want from you," she snapped in outrage. She strode several steps forward and stood with her hands on her hips, anger vibrating up her back. How dare they?