The Unbinding -- Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Stella was drinking water straight from the kitchen faucet when I got home.

"Gimme a shot," I said, slamming my bag on the counter.

She splashed water on her face, shook like a puppy in a pond, and grinned at me. Her eyes were as red as her hair, and she had tile prints on her cheeks from where she'd passed out on the bathroom floor.

"While this is a little late, it's never too early!" Stella said. She reached in the freezer and pulled out a frosted bottle of Bailey's liquor. "Hair of the dog!"

Stella got two small water glasses and poured what must have been the world’s largest shots in each.

She held it up.

"Prost! No, look in my eyes. Prost!"

I met her eyes, clinked glasses and downed the massive shot in one gulp. The burn hit my stomach so hard I dropped on the counter and coughed until I thought I'd puke right there.

"Andy? You OK, babes?" she asked, sipping her glass.

I shook my head, still coughing hard enough to feel the creamy burn in the back of my throat. It was minty and thick, and I was afraid I’d hork it right back up.

"Breathe girl! Breathe!" she said. "Hold on, let me catch up!"

Stella threw the rest of her drink back, whooped and hugged me.

"Eight months as roommates. Andy, why are you day-drinking with me?" she asked.

I slid to the ground and handed her my glass, motioning for her to add more of the toxic shit in it. I hadn't been warm since I left Grace's house. The wind and rain seemed to ride shotgun in the car with me. My car’s heater didn’t touch the sharp air.

I sighed as the bloom of whiskey warmth oozed from my chest to my limbs. My blue fingers opened and closed. Stella grabbed the bottle, now wet with condensation, and plopped on the floor next to me. She added another heavy pour to each glass.

I sipped it this time and it didn't burn, it just warmed me. I felt relief as the anxiety grappling my chest loosened.

"Andy, what happened?" Stella asked. Her white brow crinkled in concern as she changed her position to sit crisscross applesauce. "Bad dick?"

I laughed and sipped Bailey’s.

"No, it was a fake psychic,” I said, taking a sip and letting the cream sit on the top of my tongue for a moment. “She scared the hell out of me, and now I can't get warm.”

Simple is better with Stella.

Overexplaining would just result in an ADHD dismissal that was part charming and part rude as hell.

"O.M.Geee, you got hexed!" Stella said, bouncing. "Actually hexed! Didn't you tip her enough?"

I put the glass down and leaned against the fridge. I let my head roll back against it, and I closed my eyes. When I shook my head it made a pleasant swimmy swoosh on the inside.

"I didn't pay her," I said.

I sipped Bailey’s and repeated it.

“I didn’t pay the psychic, I just ran,” I giggled.

"Oh shit! You're seriously jinxed!" Stella squealed. "This is amazing."

"Amazing? Stella, how? I'm freezing cold and scared."

"Because all of that stuff is always broken by a soulmate or a twin flame or a mate bond," she said.  

I opened my eyes and stared at her like she grew tits on her head. She shrugged and primly finished her drink before topping us both off.

Smut was the only thing Stella and I had in common. We both read pretty much every trope out there: Fairy smut, dragon smut, mafia smut, vampire and werewolf smut. So if she were using porn as a basis for reality, it made sense.

And hey, most men did that, so why shouldn't Stella?

But in smut-lore, yes, a hex is generally broken by a soulmate. I felt happy and relaxed, so I let her go on about the best way to break curses. It was all fun and games until she said she thought knotting was the way to go.

"I'm not having sex with a monster whose dick turns into a ball that gets stuck in me," I said. "Even if that's the answer I'm just staying jinxed."

She gesticulated at me with her glass and I shushed her and held up my empty glass.

"No! It doesn't even turn me on when I read it. I ski—" I burped. "Skip those pages because it's like, eyeroll, no."

"Ok then, what kind of spell-breaking sex are you having?" Stella said. "Hold on, I have to pee."

She pulled herself up and then doubled over and giggled.

I giggled in return. We made eye contact and full-belly helplessly laughed until she screamed.

"Oh god! I'm peeing! Aahahahahahah, I'm peeing! Stop!" Stella ran, bent over and cross-legged to our little bathroom screaming that she was peeing, and I laughed until my own bladder spasmed.

I finished my drink, again, and some piece of my brain realized this was going down too fast for a non-drinker. At the same time I realized this was the most fun I've had in forever. I was warm, happy, and Stella was a really funny person.

She waddled back wearing just a towel and emptied the bottle.

"Knot is hot," she said sagely.

I giggled again and shook my head.

"Vampires, girl. Something that needs to consume you to survive… that's hot," I said. "The biting. I think I have a bite kink?"

"I dated a guy who bit me on my asshole," she said, voice dripping sincerity. "It is not as fun as you think. I ghosted him."

"You…"

We both fell over on each other, peals of laughter ringing against the cheap counters.

"Ok, ok, ok," Stella said. "But vampires can't break a curse, they are a curse."

My head bobbed, because in my newly buzzed mind I agreed. Vampires were out.

"No. But like, what about a possessed man? Ooo! That's hot. They want you so badly they have to take a person to touch you," I said.

"Me likey," Stella said. "I need food."

"Oh, and we could fuck on a full moon in a cemetery and the curse is broken," I said. "And we live hornily ever after!"

"I like the way that sounds," a man said.

I screamed. Stella screamed.

We stared at each other and laughed.

"What the fuck, Andy?" she asked.

"I heard a man in here?" I asked back.

"Ok. We have to look,” she said.  “And then make pizza rolls."

I nodded and put my glass on the floor. Standing was an interesting concept, and I took my time getting to my feet. It seemed like it was so straightforward, but my feet just didn’t want to get under me. It was as if my body were in water, but my brain was on laughing gas. Not very coordinated, but not the least bit unpleasant.

Stella loaded the air fryer with pepperoni pizza rolls. I didn’t even like pizza rolls, but Stella survived on them, Cheetos and draft beer. Once she had the food going, we linked arms and checked the small apartment for men.

I bent over to look under Stella's bed and farted.

Stella fell to the ground laughing.

I fell down too, and open-mouthed silent-laughed until I thought I was going to pass out.

"Exscuseme!" I panted.

"My. What a lady I have here," the man's voice said.

I stilled.

"Stella, the man just spoke again."

"Bitch, that was your asshole!" she yelled, throwing a shoe at me.

"Not the first time I've been called an asshole, but the first time I've been called yours," the man said.

"No. Stel. Listen. There's a man in here," I said, suddenly cold again. I was almost sober.

OK, I wasn't anywhere close to sober, but my shoulder was cold, as if someone breathed ice on it, and I desperately wanted to not be drunk and confused.

"Stella. There's a man here," I said very quietly, very sincerely.

She sat straight.

"Andy?"

"I think he's breathing on my shoulder."

"OK, he's invisible, but hold still and I'll punch him in the face," she said. Stella lurched her entire body over me, her left fist extended, punching the bed next to my head.

I heard the man laugh.

"You missed," I whispered, suddenly more afraid than I've ever been. "I think I might pee now."

"Well, make it to the sink because there aren't any more clean towels," Stella said, glaring at the bed she punched.

I stood shakily. In my mind I walked straight to the bathroom and did my business in a low haze. The notion was challenged by how many times I bumped into the hallway wall.

As I was washing my hands he spoke again.

"Andrea," it whispered.

"It's Andy," I said.

"Andrea Celeste Mercer," he whispered.

I looked at the counter and the Judgement tarot card from Grace's deck shivered on the cheap white porcelain.

I full-body shook, like a fear orgasm, as cold spread over my back.

Grace said I was being called from beyond the grave.

Maybe this was a drunk hallucination. I had one when I was a kid. If so, it didn't hurt to play along, right?

"Yes," I answered. "Who are you?"

I looked in the mirror at the lean, tall man behind me. His hands rested on my waist as his pale hazel eyes met mine.

"Elias Thorne," he said. "Your spiritual guide."

It was a good thing I already peed.