Strange dreams surrendered to unfamiliar darkness and Kelly Barnes woke feeling nauseous and faint, head pounding to the rhythm of her nervous heart. Her last memories were dim and unsteady, but they featured Tom Corwen, his socially awkward friend, and a lingering trace of blinding pleasure.

She groaned as she sat up, pausing for a moment to let the room stabilize. Had she been drinking? No, she only drank at home, and never to excess. Not since... She pushed that memory away, along with the pain that came with it.

She'd been in the lab, inviting Tom and his friends to her home for a celebration that Saturday evening, ostensibly to honor her favorite student's achievement. Deep, deep in her mind, however, she recognized it for what it was. She had allowed herself to care too much for him and wanted their last meeting as friends to be something special. The others would be there only to make sure she didn't add to her long list of regrets.

Then the girl kissed him. Kelly's faith in herself was anemic and she had been trusting in his fidelity and the presence of his friends, but if he and Katherine weren't exclusive...

No, there was something else. A magic stone. A book.

Shit, why was her mind so foggy?

She blinked away the last tatters of sleep and peered around. Other than an ornate nightstand, the bed beneath her was the only furniture at the top of a set of stairs descending into a tiny apartment. Or should she call it a cabin? Even in the dark she could tell that the walls were real wood paneling, not a cheap facade. What little she could see from her perch appeared to be handmade, but elegant and polished, as if crafted by an artisan.

She carefully made her way down using the banister as a lifeline. Her rational mind felt fear, but the headache was worse and both were overshadowed by a growing despair. But over what? Her initial thought, that she'd been kidnapped, didn't stand under scrutiny. She wasn't harmed, hadn't been tied, and not a soul on earth stood to gain anything by holding her for ransom. Someone had removed her shoes, but they'd been set neatly by the door. Perhaps she'd been drugged, but the aftermath felt more like a rejection or a breakup, only much worse. Like the day she was served divorce papers.

She startled at a noise from somewhere above and scanned the shadowed rafters. Nothing moved. No sound followed. Slowly, she forced herself to relax and look around.

The apartment was more than nice, with hardwood floors covered by a thick, Persian rug, a pair of comfortable chairs, a large closet beneath the stairs, a modest set of bookshelves, a desk that could double as a vanity, and a plush sofa just big enough for two. She tried the door first though she knew it would be locked, then pulled open the curtains next to it. The wide window was shuttered on the outside, letting in a trace amount of light. There was a lamp against the far wall, so she stumbled toward it and pulled on the chain, bathing the room in an amber glow. Someone had left a few chocolate kisses on the desk, and next to them, a notepad with a message in violet ink.

"Someone will come to get you soon. Don't be afraid. The chocolate helps a little."

A lump rose in her throat and she picked up one of the candies, unwrapping it automatically. Enough sense remained that she wondered if it might contain poison, or more of the drug she suffered from, but it didn't break through the sadness, and it couldn't stop her.

A tapping from the door caused her to whirl, dropping the chocolate and grasping the desk for support. It swung open, revealing little beyond the figure that stepped through it.

"Oh thank god!" Kelly cried and ran toward him, throwing herself into his arms while profound relief flooded her mind. He seemed to withdraw, as if terrified of her, but timidly returned her hug as the door swung shut behind him.

"Kelly, I'm so sorry," he said quietly into her ear, sending shivers across her shoulders. "I didn't know what else to do."

"I don't care," she mumbled into his shirt oblivious to the meaning in his words. "I'm just glad you're here."

The fog of despair dispersed in the light of his presence, replaced by a yearning she couldn't explain. The man was so sensual, so confident and kind. Nothing she had ever known could compare with him. If only she could...

No! She wanted to beat her palms against her forehead, drive out the unwelcome thoughts, but she'd probably pass out in agony. Instead, she silenced the feelings, pushed them out of the way, focused on what she knew, and took a step back.

"I need you to explain where I am and why." The words weren't as confident in the open air as they had been in her mind.

Tom sighed and sat in one of the chairs, motioning Kelly to the loveseat. "It's what I tried to explain back at school," he said. He seemed tired, but not like a man worn down by his illness. He wearied beneath the weight of something far bigger.

"Magic," she replied, lowering herself into the cushions. They gave way beneath her, conforming to her back and hips. "I'm not a child, Tom. Tell me what's really going on."

"It's real, Kelly. This cabin is one of several built by brownies. Maybe a few elves. Katherine, Rachel, and Becca each have their own. Becca's is right next door." He gestured to the wall behind her. "We're inside an old warehouse on an island in the middle of the Borneau river, about forty minutes from school. I didn't want to tell you even that much, but Katherine said it wouldn't matter. She's usually right."

"Elves." Kelly repeated dryly.

"And brownies. There are a lot more, but we can go over all that later. How are you feeling?"

"Like I just crawled through hell. Or..." She paused. "Well, to be honest... not that bad, actually. How is that possible?"

"That's my fault," he said. "You hugged me before I could stop you and that reset the clock. Eventually you'll have to go through the rough spots to come down from it, but it shouldn't last more than a day."

"Right. I remember your warnings."

"Do you believe me?"

"No, Tom, I don't. What did you expect? There are a dozen explanations more probable than fairies."

"You're more curious than that," he countered. "There's a lot science can't explain, you said that yourself."

"Yes, but this defies reason and some things simply don't merit the debate. I'm not about to go looking for bigfoot no matter how many blurry photos you show me."

"I have more than pictures," he said. He seemed to sink into his chair, as if the weight on his shoulders was bearing down on him. "I just never wanted you on this side of the door."

Kelly sneered. "I think it's a little late for that, don't you?"

He glanced at the front of the apartment. "I meant metaphorically. This wasn't my choice, Kelly. Becca meant well, but she doesn't know you."

"And you think you do?"

"Well enough to anticipate your reaction." He stood up and held out his hand, but she hesitated. "It's not as bad the second time, I promise. The primary effect doesn't go away, but your body will adapt the more you're exposed to it."

"You said this... toxin is addictive."

"Not from a touch. Or it's probably more accurate to say that it's not strong enough to make the dependency physical."

"Like microdosing nicotine as a treatment for Parkinson's?" Kelly cautiously accepted his hand and stood, feeling a rush of sensation as though the palm of her hand had become an erogenous zone. She forced herself to ignore it.

"Something like that. Saliva is more potent and causes permanent physical and psychological dependency."

"A higher concentration of genetic material."

"I think so," Tom nodded. "Nobody really knows how it works because it doesn't follow the physical laws of our universe."

"Then intercourse..." she left the rest of her sentence unspoken. Why did she have to bring that into the conversation?

Tom blushed. "Katherine and I have been intimate. It does something more, but we don't know anything about that either. I can tell you it eases some of the withdrawal, but there are... side effects."

"Nymphomania?" Stop thinking about it! she admonished herself silently.

"That too." Tom actually chuckled. "Katherine's used the word to describe herself more than once, but that's not what I meant." His smile vanished as his deep, blue eyes sought hers. "Kelly, I wanted to talk to you about all of this because I'm hoping you can help me. I can't bring it up once we go outside because everyone's waiting and they'll start yelling at me again, but I don't want this. I—" He stopped, clearly battling his own demons before finishing. "I want them to be free."

Something tugged at Kelly's own heart as he spoke those words and she understood the depth of his intentions. Hard won insight told her that he loved them all, not only Katherine, and it was just as clear that he'd walk away if it meant they could live a better life, though the act would tear him to pieces. It was in that moment that Kelly Barnes began to give in, to believe in Tom Corwen's absurd story. Nobody could fake that much pain. She knew it better than most.

"That's a conversation for later." He cleared his throat. "Right now I need to earn back some of your trust."

She followed him to the door. The lock clicked as he reached for the brass knob, and he swung it open on a scene Kelly would never forget.

The sun shone through panels high above, through leafy vines and the canopies of narrow trees growing within the walls of an enormous structure made from fieldstone and vibrant wood, crystalline windows and corrugated metal. A small crowed had gathered on a cobblestone path that ran the length of the warehouse. Katherine stood beaming, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet next to Rachel, whose left eye gleamed bright blue instead of brown. Becca stood nearby, wearing an expression of guilt, while two others loitered expectantly.

"Welcome to Meridian, Kelly," Katherine said, stepping forward to take her hand.

Kelly purposely shut her mouth, suddenly aware that it had dropped open in surprise and wonder. It was like falling through the rabbit hole and waking up in Wonderland. The air was temperate, saturated with color and full of the lush smells of blooming flowers. There was even a trill of birdsong.

"You live here?"

Rachel nodded smugly and gestured widely. "You haven't seen anything yet."

"Kelly, this is Zeffie," Tom said, indicating a black girl who nodded politely, though there was something eerie in her smile. "And this is—"

"I can introduce myself," a young, pale woman with straight, black hair stepped forward. She wore a sundress and work boots, and directed a sullen scowl at Tom before extending her hand in greeting. "Meg Malone."

"She doesn't bite," Rachel said with a grin. "Meg has issues but they're mostly with Tom."

"I don't have any issues with him," Meg shot back.

"She lies sometimes too."

"Please don't argue," Tom begged, and both girls reluctantly obeyed. "These are the people who keep this place running. We're just missing Amy, but I don't think you're ready to meet her."

"Others live here?" Kelly asked.

Katherine nodded. "Thirty or so. They're all downstairs. If you get through the shock of today you'll meet them eventually, but Tom thinks you'll need time to adjust."

"He's not wrong," Kelly mused, trying to take it all in. "I'm a bit overwhelmed."

"More than a bit, looks like," Zeffie smiled. "Most of you humans have a hard time believing the world doesn't fit within your convenient definitions."

"Us humans?"

As answer, the black girl's grin widened, and a shadow rippled across her skin.

"Zeffie!" Tom scolded, wincing, but she didn't listen. The ripples quickly coalesced until she became a living shadow, reflecting no light except for her glowing red eyes and brilliant white fangs.

"Omigod!" Kelly screamed and stumbled backward. She'd have fallen if Tom didn't catch her.

"I told you no, Zeffie, turn back now!" Tom shouted. Kelly had seen him frustrated, but never angry. Not like this. The girl transformed again, her eyes meek and apologetic, but Kelly's eyes were fixed on Tom. His show of strength and authority was captivating. Sexy.

"Are you okay?" he said, restoring her effortlessly to her feet. "They weren't supposed to show you yet."

"Show me what? What the hell was that?"

"Zephaeia is a lampades," Tom explained. "She only looks human because of her glamor. It's... well, more than a disguise, but the full explanation won't make much sense until you have a bit more context. She's usually pretty sweet," he shot her a glare, "but she can be startling if you meet her in the dark."

"No shit," Kelly shuddered, then quickly backpedaled, unable to reconcile her horror with the cute girl in pastel pink giving Tom puppy-dog eyes. "I didn't mean—I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Zeffie said. "That's kind of the reaction we're going for."

Meg growled, "Young humans tend to overreact, so we don't usually drop the glamors in front of them. Do we, Zeph?"

"I'm sorry, okay? Geez!"

"I'm flattered, but I'm not that young," Kelly said, recapturing some of her dignity. She wasn't bothered by her age, but she was a decade older than Tom, and the others couldn't have been more than freshmen.

"You're barely more than a child," Meg replied dismissively.

A surge of annoyance rose up in Kelly's chest. She might be off her guard, but she was still a college professor, and that, at least had earned her some respect. Before she could say anything, however, Katherine spoke up.

"Meg is over a hundred and twenty years old."

"Bullshit."

"It's true, and she's far from the oldest. A lot of your expectations are about to change."

Kelly looked to Tom again who simply shrugged in affirmation. "Do you want a tour?"

They showed her the bath house which made her yearn for a few hours in the hot tub with a glass of chardonnay, and the open rain shower that stirred the wild, provocative undergrad she once was. She passed through their gourmet kitchen and adjoining common room with its enormous television mounted to the wall. Though they didn't spend long outside, it was enough for her to confirm Tom's claim that they were still in Redgrove, but the shimmering dome around the island and the black tree near its heart made her shiver more than the cold.

After an hour they all sat around the kitchen bar while Kelly drank an odd but tasty tea that chased away the last traces of the fog in her mind.

"It's difficult to believe," she said. "I'm going to need time to consider what you've shown me."

"It took us a while too," Rachel said. "Except Becks, she lives and breathes this shit."

"I do not," Becca frowned, then she turned to Kelly and spoke to her for the first time since they met in the lab. "I'm really sorry I forced this on you. I hope you can forgive me."

Kelly didn't answer right away. When she did it was with a quiet smile. "I'd like to talk to you about that, but not yet. You said it was important and the honesty of your motives is a lot easier to accept than anything else I've seen today."

Becca blushed and hesitantly smiled back.

"Tom?" Kelly turned to him, sitting far enough from her that they couldn't accidentally touch. "This place is magnificent, but when can I leave? I need to get my head out of the clouds for a while."

"Whenever you want, but the withdrawal will be easier the longer you stay."

She shook her head. "I'm not a stranger to depression, I'll manage, but I was wondering if I could take something with me, so I don't wake up tomorrow and think I've gone crazy."

Tom grinned and pulled a small, velvet bag from his pocket and passed it to her. Inside was an intricate silver ring set with two clear stones. Several of the girls gasped.

"Are you sure about that, Tom?" Zeffie asked with genuine concern. "She could hurt us all, not just you."

"Thomas and I talked it over with Meg," Katherine assured her then turned to face Kelly, displaying her own ring on the third finger of her left hand. "It isn't just a ring, it's a passkey. Everyone who lives here has a version of this, and it will allow you to come and go as long as Thomas doesn't revoke your privileges."

"Those privileges haven't been set yet," Meg said. "You need to try it on."

Kelly eyed her ring, feeling tears well up, fighting emotions she'd fought hard to bury. It would have made a beautiful wedding ring.

"I can't," she said and dropped it back into its pouch. "I'm sorry, Tom."

"Keep it, in case you change your mind," he said, but the look of disappointment on his face spoke volumes. She longed to give him comfort, and receive it in return. She craved it... would a simple hug be so bad? A chaste kiss? The feeling of loss began to creep back in.

Rachel and Tom drove her back to the college where they picked up her car, and Tom drove it to her house in the suburbs. They spoke little and she was grateful for it, but it nearly broke her heart to say goodbye. She began to second guess her earlier confidence.

The shower didn't feel as warm as usual, the water a little less clean, but every inch of her skin resonated with each little drop, triggering long-dormant desire.

"I can't," she repeated and wept aloud, trapped in the prison of her thoughts while old habits ushered her through the motions. The towels were cold. Her bathrobe itched. Even Sullivan, her gray tomcat, sensed her raw mood and kept his distance. She cried on and off for hours most of that afternoon, reliving the worst of her past, and mourning a future she could never possess until fatigue carried her into sleep.