In Between - 1. Chapter 1

Opening the door to my apartment, I immediately notice all the lights are out. Goosebumps prickle my arms. I curse under my breath as I try to tamp down my anxiety. "Damn it. He did it again."

My roommate has a habit of turning off all the lights, even though I've asked him repeatedly not to. My fear of dark rooms had been thoroughly inbred by my step-father—his version of 'time-out' was a quiet dark closet. So even though I was eighteen, I still had the irrational fear of dark closed spaces. Outside I was fine, but put walls around me and turn out the lights... forget it.

I close the door, dropping my keys in on the small table by the door. "Linden?"

Silence. Not surprising. The damn guy was the quietest roommate ever.

I turn, fumbling for the switch when a white apparition near the window caught my eye.

"Jesus!" I jump, slamming into the door, my backpack falling with a loud thump. I clutch at my heart as my roommate silently unfurls himself from the bench he'd placed in front of the window. The guy was beautiful, there was no question about that. Ethereal. His porcelain skin and the cream pajama pants made him spirit-like. "Make some noise next time! And turn on a damn light!"

"Sorry. I forgot. I was just, well, you know, thinking."

I slam on the light, causing him to blink. Linden did that a lot: sitting by the damn window staring out. He also seems to have unnaturally good eyesight in the dark. I've only known him for about two months, since school had started. We get along well, for the most part. He's quiet, watchful. There are moments when I think he is interested in more than just a friendship, but he's also never given me any indication he is interested in guys at all—even though I've outright told him I was gay. I thought it was important to know how he felt about that right off the bat. I didn't need some homophobic asshole for a roommate the minute I got out from under my parents' roof.

"You're later than usual, Woody." Linden makes his way to the kitchen, starting his usual cup of tea.

Yeah, that's right, my name is Woody. Well, Woodson, actually, but people call me Woody. I like it better than my first name, my real first name. Leaf. Seriously, my mom was a hippie when she and my dad met, lived on a commune and everything. Until he died of malaria on one of his treks to 'find himself' in South America. Hence, how I ended up with the step-dad from strict-ville when I was six.

Of course, I never tell anyone my name is part of a frickin' tree. No, I tell them it's Leif, like Leif Erikson. The fucking Norse Viking. So Leif Woodson, that's me. Maybe the Leif name would stick better than Woody if I actually looked like a damn Norse god. In reality, Woody fits better.

I move to join Linden in the kitchen, automatically grabbing the jar I use to water my plants.

"I was finishing up at the lab," I explain as I fill the jar with water before moving around to all the various herbs and plants dotting the apartment.

Did I mention I'm studying to be a botanist? Yeah, love the feel of dirt and soil and rough bark under my fingers. Another reason the Woody nickname stuck, I was always running around the woods, exploring.

"I wanted to get everything done so I'm free to enjoy the weekend without worrying about school work." I'm tired from the busy week, but I'm looking forward to spending some time with my boyfriend tonight.

"I was just worried you wouldn't get back before it got too dark. Especially tonight."

I laugh. "What? Are you superstitious or something? You think a bunch of ghosts and ghouls will come out?"

Linden's nose wrinkles ever so slightly as he plucks a mint leaf from the herb garden and crushes it in his tea. "No, but Halloween brings out other... evils..."

I quirk a brow at him, practically rolling my eyes.

He sighs heavily, dropping his cup. "Okay, so it might just be stupid idiots drinking until they can't stand and doing really stupid things."

"I can take care of myself. But thanks for the concern." I grab a piece of cold pizza from the fridge, needing to eat something before Sam gets here in a while. I still have no idea what I'm going to dress up as, but I'm sure I can come up with something. He said it was just a bunch of friends hanging out at a bonfire anyway.

After scarfing down one piece of pizza, I grab another before heading to my room to figure out some sort of costume for this Halloween get together. I rummage in my closet, hoping some idea will come to me.

Maybe I should dress up as a tree. Ha! Wouldn't that just be hilarious? Woody as a tree.

I've almost given up, when I spot my Baltimore Ravens football jersey. Perfect. Some tennis shoes, a swipe of black stuff under my eyes, easy.

"What are you doing?"

"Fuck!" I jump, nearly bumping my head on the closet bar. I turn and glare at Linden leaning in my door frame, his arms crossed casually over his pale defined chest. My eyes drop to his slender bare feet peeking out from under his pajamas. "Damn ninja," I mutter under my breath.

I toss the jersey on the bed before tugging off my polo shirt. I scrounge for a long sleeve shirt and sweats to complete my outfit. "I'm getting my costume ready."

Linden straightens, tensing. "Costume? Why? I thought we were staying in and watching movies tonight?"

Oh, yeah. I did say I'd do that. But that was back in the beginning of October, I didn't have any other plans, then—let alone a boyfriend.

"Oh, well, I was invited to go hang out with some friends tonight. At a bonfire." I yank off my khakis so I can slip into the sweatpants.

"But you can't," Linden insists. "Not tonight—" he cuts himself off, biting his bottom lip.

"I can't?" I frown at him, until I notice the little pout he has going on. Again, I'm struck with the thought that he might actually be interested in me. So I saunter over to him, leaning close, dropping my voice to a sultry whisper. "Why not?"

Linden sucks in a breath, swaying slightly before he steps back. Yeah, either in denial, or too shy to step up.

"It's—it's just not safe."

I scoff. "I promise not to drink too much. Sam will be there too. He'll make sure nothing happens, all right?"

"Sam? The guy you just met two weeks ago?"

"Yes. Sam Hain. I've told you about—" I look up and freeze. Linden has gone pale. Well, paler than usual. "Oh, hell, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says almost breathlessly, his hand reaching out to grab my arm. "But I really don't think you should go out. Please."

Okay, now the guy's just being annoying. I get that he wanted to spend Halloween night hanging out and watching scary movies, but hell, I actually have a social life now.

Well, sort of. If only I could get Sam in bed. He's been frustratingly gentlemanly so far.

I finish dressing in my football outfit, tying on a pair of tennis shoes.

"What if—what if he tries to take advantage of you?" Linden presses his arguments.

I laugh at that. "I hope to hell so! I've been trying to get into his pants for over a week. He thinks my first time should be 'special'. I'm done waiting for special. It's not like an angel is going to drop from the sky and woo me with his harp and lay me on a bed of feathers or something. Just give me some rough and dirty."

Linden looks like he's about to say something more, even reaches out like he's going to touch me or something.

I finally sigh. "How about we watch a movie together until Sam gets here? Okay?"

I figure maybe that will appease him. He nods and follows me to the couch where I grab the remote and flick on the TV. I scroll through Netflix until I find a movie I haven't seen before—Halloween 6: The Curse of Michael Myers. I remember watching some of the Halloween movies but never bothered after the third or fourth.

Linden settles in next to me. Even though we've left the kitchen light on, the dimness of the room has me fading a bit as I drop my head back on the couch.

A hard knock at the door has me jerking upright. Shit, I'd fallen asleep.

"That's probably Sam," I say, rising to open the door.

Linden gives me another sad-puppy pleading look, and I think about telling Sam I'd meet his friends another time. But Sam has been talking about this night for several days now, so excited for me to meet some of his buddies; I can't deny him that.

"Look, Linden," I soften my voice, knowing I'm going to disappoint him. "We'll watch some more movies tomorrow, okay? I just... Well, you know, Sam's the first guy who's really been interested in me, the first to stick around for more than one date, you know?"

I know I sound a little pathetic. I'm pleading with my roommate to understand my want to spend time with my boyfriend.

Linden murmurs something as I brush by him, heading for the door. I pause. "What?"

He's biting on his thumbnail. "Nothing."

"No, what did you say?" I'm feeling a little more defensive, thinking he's just said something derogatory about me.

He looks like he's not going to answer, so I huff as I turn to the door again as another knock sounds.

"I just said... no, he's not." Linden's whisper stops me dead.

Well, fuck.

But I don't have time to deal with his coming out to me at the moment. I'm not sure how to feel about it actually. I like Linden. We enjoy many of the same things. If only he'd given some indication of his interest earlier. Before Sam. Before tonight.

"I have to go, Linden. I promised Sam I would," I choke out, emotions clogging my throat. "But... but we'll talk, okay? Later?"

I don't turn to look at him, afraid I'll lose my resolve and cuddle him in my arms like I've almost done a dozen times before—but didn't because I didn't think he'd appreciate a man hugging him. Now I know different.

I stride purposefully to the door, yanking it open just as Sam goes to knock again. "Hey! How's it going?"

Sam looks down at me, his dark eyes devour me. He's a couple inches taller and about fifty pounds heavier, with all his bulky muscles. A smile tips his mouth as he looks down a me, his tongue tracing a line over his bottom lip.

Damn, he looks like he could eat me right here.

"I'm good," he says in that husky voice of his. "You ready to go? The guys are waiting for us."

I nod, finally taking my eyes off his tantalizing lips and notice what he's wearing: all black, with some sort of cape.

"What are you supposed to be? A vampire?"

A grin quirks in lips. "Something like that. Just threw something on."

"Okay, well, let's go." I shove my phone and keys in my pocket.

"Call me," Linden's voice pipes up from across the room, "if you need anything. A ride or something."

Sam lifts his head, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Linden's half naked body. I place a hand on his chest and shove him back before the jealousy I see brewing in his eyes manifests itself physically.

"Will do," I call back to Linden as I pull the door shut behind me and lead Sam back out of the apartment building.

"Who was that?" Sam asks in his velvety deep voice.

"My roommate. He's just a little disappointed I didn't stay in with him tonight," I explain as we make our way to his truck.

He grunts as he climbs into the driver's seat. He's never been a huge conversationalist. So I babble at him about my classes and professors, describing my lab project with fertilizers, knowing he's not really listening. If I really think about it, he hasn't shown that much interest in my field of interest, not like Linden—but then Linden and I are both studying botany. Sam is a literature major, focusing on mythology, so the sciences are not of much interest to him.

Don't get me wrong, we've had fun together—going to football games, a hockey game, the movies. We just don't have really deep conversations. I've tried to get him to go out for a picnic or a hike in the woods, something a little more intimate where we could talk, but he's dodged my attempts.

"You know maybe I should just go home," I mutter, suddenly feeling grouchy that we've never done anything I've suggested we do.

"No."

No? Really? That's all he has to say?

"Sam, come on. You can just pull over, and I can call my roommate to pick me up."

He glances at me. "I promise, we'll have a good time, then tomorrow we can go where ever you want. Please."

Well, crap. I can't say no to that, now can I? "Fine."

I give up talking and rest my head against the window, closing my eyes for a few minutes, figuring I'll rest up a bit more before facing the midnight partying.

We turn off onto a gravel road heading into the woods. But then I guess a bonfire would have to be out of the way somewhere. He makes another turn onto a dirt path, the dark swallowing us up for a few minutes before I can see a blaze ahead of us.

He pulls to a stop behind a few other cars, grinning at me before climbing out. I follow him to the clearing in the circle of trees. My first instinct is to check how close the fire is to any of the trees, looking up to make sure the popping flares can't reach any of the leaves. I'm relieved to see the bonfire is well contained.

"You're finally here!" someone yells, and cheers go up around us.

"Is this him?" another asks Sam.

"Yeah, this is Woody."

Someone leans in close. I can smell some sort of alcohol on his breath as he leers. "Ahh, the virgin sacrifice."

I jerk back. "What?"

Sam and the others laugh. "Don't mind Drake. He's a drunk asshole."

Sam shoves Drake away from me, causing him to stumble. I shake off the unease Drake caused, letting Sam lead me around the fire, introducing me. As he does, I notice everyone here is dressed in black, similar to Sam. I stand out with my white and purple jersey.

I punch Sam on the arm as he digs in a cooler and pulls out a beer. "You didn't tell me there was a dress code."

"What?" Sam asks distractedly, his eyes roving the clearing.

"Black. You could have told me I should have dressed like a vampire or wizard or some goth punk or something."

Sam chuckles. "Don't worry about it. They're just boring when it comes to costumes. You look good."

I can't help the slight swell of pride at the compliment.

"You want one?" he offers, indicating the beer.

I shake my head, remembering Linden's concern about drunken evils. For some reason, I don't want to be one of those drunken idiots he was talking about. And I've never held my liquor well anyway. One or two would have me tipsy in no time.

"Water?" Sam picks up a bottle from the cooler, offering me a Deer Park.

"Thanks." I take it, twisting open the sealed cap and taking a long swig. The cool water feels good down my throat.

I allow myself to settle in, listening vaguely to the conversations. Someone has put on eerie Halloween music, and I hear someone else telling tales about ghosts. Sam sticks near me, which helps ease my nerves about being around a bunch of strangers. His hand on my back calms me.

I'm hazily aware of time passing although it hasn't been very long. The guys are becoming more rowdy, getting louder, more lewd; dancing and chanting around the fire, pretending to imitate the ghosts and demons they've been telling stories about. Sam fits in with these guys. But I can tell I don't. Maybe it's because Halloween has never been that fun of a holiday for me.

"Damn, you're one hot virgin." The words and hot breath on my neck have me whipping around.

What the hell? I glance at Sam. Has he told his friends something I confided to him in private? The bastard.

I shove the drunken Drake away, rounding on Sam. "Did you tell them I've never had sex?" I hiss at him.

His eyes widen slightly, lifting over my shoulder and narrowing on Drake. "Shit, Woody, I'm sorry. I might have let it slip," he admits. Then he wraps his arm around me. "I just thought it was so cool to be dating someone untouched." He leans closer, nibbling at my neck. "Someone just for me."

Well, damn, when he puts it that way, it's hard to be too mad at him.

He leans down to the cooler, rummaging around and pulling out a bottle of water from the icy slush. The label has fallen off, and droplets fall from it. He smiles, gives the bottle a little shake, before twisting off the top for me.

"Here, have some more water," he says. "We'll leave soon, okay?"

I nod, taking the bottle. I really want to leave right now, but it's only been a little over an hour. It's almost midnight. It'd be rude to demand Sam take me home so soon. As long a Drake the Asshole doesn't come near me again, I suppose it will be okay.

I take a long drink, noticing several of the guys staring at me. Smiles stretch across their lips. Damn, I must have attracted attention with my outburst. I focus on drinking the water, having nothing else to do, and try to keep from meeting their gazes.

The fire crackles, and I find myself staring into the flames. It's mesmerizing, the yellows, reds, oranges... Flickering and dancing... popping and snapping...

The voices around me sound distant. I feel light and a little fuzzy.

I look around. Everyone seems to be moving in slow motion.

"Sam?"

The near empty bottle of water is taken from my hand, and hands grasp my shoulders, guiding me. I can't seem to resist.

Faces are leaning in close, grinning before backing away. I see a glints of metal flashing with the reflected firelight.

"Sam? What... what's..." I can't seem to finish my sentence.

I see Sam, somehow managing to pick him out amongst the rest of the dark figures now crowding me. Someone is holding my shoulders from behind—and I'm actually grateful as I feel like I might fall over.

Did I drink a beer? I don't think I did. But why...?

Sam raising his hand over his head, holding something against his hand, something metal. He draws it over his palm, leaving behind a trail of blood.

"Brothers! Mark the circle and ready the sacrifice."

I'm squinting at him now, confused, but unable to make my body move on its own. I'm shoved, and I collapse into a strange pile of sticks, pine needles, and leaves. Other scents assault me, herbs I know I recognize, should be able to name...

Anise... that licorice smell... out here? In the woods?

Vervain...?

Wormwood...?

I shook my head as I was rolled to my back, hands arranging me. No... no... something wasn't right...

Sam...

I cast my eyes around, searching, only to see the glint of blades in each of the hands as they slash a slice across their palms like Sam had done. They turn their backs on me, and I have the momentary sense that I should run... run like hell... but my limbs are heavy, unmoving.

Sam and the others move to the circle of trees, spreading out until they are each facing one of the oak and maples surrounding the clearing. They raise their knives. Sam slices a gouge in the bark.

"No!" I scream. I feel like he's just sliced into me, watching him mutilate the bark as he etches a symbol in it.

"Stop! Please. Don't." I'm panting as he steps back and I can see he's desecrated the tree with a star. An upside-down one.

Sam's dark slitted eyes flick to me as he rubs his bloody hand over the symbol and it feels likes he's just burned me. It makes no sense; how I can feel what he's doing to the beautiful tree.

"Don't..." I struggle to move, but only manage a twitch.

They ignore my pleas. The others turn, repeating Sam's etching on the other trees around me. I scream as it feels like I've been stabbed a hundred times. Each slice they've made I feel, I can feel the trees weeping, screaming their own pain. I scream for them, giving their torment a voice.

"What the hell's wrong with him?" someone asks.

"Stop! Stop!" I can't help but to plead with them, even though I know they won't.

Sam moves closer, along with someone else. They're frowning down at me as the others continue cutting marks into the trees, their faces a blur. I'm writhing, struggling to escape my invisible bonds. I feel white heat burning inside me, straining to erupt. It feels like I'm going to explode.

"Oh, fuck... He's a dryad!"

I'm gasping, trying to breathe through the pain.

"Finish it! Quick! Before he—"

"Burn him! Now! He's going to—"

Hands are on me, dragging me. Rage fills me at what they've done, but I'm only able to stare up into the dark sky. Heat boils in my blood; I want to kill them all for defiling my trees, for planning on killing me.

But it feels like I'm dying inside, burning. Gasping for air.

As I crack my eyes open, I think maybe I already have as I see a white figure floating above, luminescent wings outstretched. An angel...

Wait... I squint. Linden? I chuckle at the irony that I've imagined my roommate as the angel coming to take me from this world.

The heat from the fire is closer. I'm limp in Sam's arms. The man I'd kissed. The man I'd trusted. His face is hard, snarling as he carries my limp body. He's cursing at me; I've ruined his plans.

Fuck you, I want to say, but I can't get my dry throat to work. The fire looms. My one arm that's hanging limp is scorching as Sam approaches the inferno. Tears are leaking down my temples as I look up at Sam, begging him with my eyes to not do this.

"Please..." I croak out.

His stubbled jaw is tight as he lifts me higher, almost like an offering. "Finish the markings!"

I convulse as I feel several sharp stabs.

"NO!" My scream is ripped out of my throat. Heat explodes out of me in a wave, and I'm suddenly falling. I brace for the impact of burning embers, expecting to feel the searing heat burn through my tender skin. Engulfing me, suffocating...

A whoosh of cooler air and I feel lighter, floating...

I manage to crack open my eyes. The white nearly blinds me, but the cool air rushing around my skin is heaven. I glance down wondering where the fire is and suck in a breath. I'm floating... No, I'm flying... No, I'm being flown... over the clearing.

The fire is out. No one is there. I see only piles of gray ash being blown in the wind. My relief at not being burned, turns into panic as I realize just how high I am. I look up. Wide white wings flutter above me. Linden smiles softly down on me.

"Hello there, my dryad."

"What?! No!" I scream, jolting upright. I'm dead. Oh, God. I'm dead. I struggle, tangled up in something that's wrapped around me. "No! No!"

"Woody!" a sharp voice cuts into my panic.

I blink. "Where—?"

Sunlight filters through the window, casting my room in a soft glow. I scrabble at the sheets wrapped around me. My skin is soaked in sweat, even though the room is cool.

"Are you okay, Woody?" Linden asks from the doorway, haloed in the sunlight.

"Huh?" I glance up at him—my normal, human roommate— numb from the shock of my nightmare. A nightmare. Fuck. Just a damn nightmare.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I think so," I mumble, rubbing my hands over my face.

"You sure? You look a little... pale." Linden steps closer, moving to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Yeah, uh, just a bad dream, I think." I blink several times trying to get my mind to catch up to the fact that I'm not burning and I'm not dead being carried to heaven by a Linden-Angel lookalike. "What... what happened last night? I don't remember..."

Hell, it had all seemed so real. When had I come home? Had I passed out and Sam brought me home? Had I called Linden? I don't remember ever crawling in the bed.

"You don't remember?" Linden cocks his head with a smile before answering. "You fell asleep on the couch while watching the movie."

I nod. "Yeah, but then Sam arrived and I went to the bonfire—"

Linden was already shaking his head. "No. He never came." He chuckles. "Maybe he spontaneously combusted or something."

"What?" My eyes are wide. "Why would you say that?"

He laughs. "It's a joke. Chill. Anyway, I managed to get you to move to the bed. You were dead tired."

I groan. "Don't say that."

Linden looks at me quizzically.

"The nightmare was just really, really weird. I swear I'm never watching another scary movie again. I dreamt I was being sacrificed by Sam and his friends at the bonfire," I explain.

"Really?" Linden's eyes are soft, understanding. He rests his hand on my thigh. "Are you better now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just seemed so real," I mumble, then I chuckle. "Although I did dream you were an angel taking me to heaven."

Linden laughs with me. "An angel, huh?"

"Funny, right?"

"I'll be your angel anytime you need me," Linden whispers.

I wrap my hand over his where it's resting on my leg. A tingly warmth radiates through me. How had I missed how much this man cared?

"How about we get dressed and go get some breakfast?"

"Sure." He smiles sweetly and heads to his own room.

I sigh heavily, still shaking the last visages of the nightmare from my mind. I lean forward, dropping my head, and running my hands through my hair.

I freeze as I feel something tangled in the strands. I pull it free, staring at it in horror.

A pine needle.