Lesley Livingston: Wondrous Strange

Fool , Sonny thought silently, although he carefully kept it from showing on his face. If I’d wanted to hurt you, I could have done so easily by now .

There was a hint of fear in her eyes. But just a hint. That impressed him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He glanced at her purse. “Please. If you’re looking for mace, you don’t need to. I…I only wanted to give you this.” He held out the rose. “You looked as though you could use something…nice.”

The girl’s face changed from wariness to wonder.

“Wow,” she said softly. She reached for the flower, hesitantly, looking up at him. He took another careful step forward and placed the rose gently in her hand.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, gazing down at the perfect rose in her palm. The heady scent of the flower filled the little clearing with its perfume, and the girl inhaled deeply, her face softening into a smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

But by the time she looked back up, he was already gone.

Kelley looked around the clearing, astonished, but the mysterious-and good-looking-guy had vanished without a sound. She sat on the bench awhile longer, holding the rose and listening.

Nothing.

At last, gathering her stuff, she picked up one of the footpaths that would lead her out of the garden and toward Bethesda Terrace. It was time she headed home.

Maybe he’s still around here somewhere , she thought as she strolled leisurely. I should at least make an effort to find him. Thank him properly for trying to cheer me up . Kelley toyed with the tempting idea, playing with the green-amber pendant that hung from a silver chain around her neck. It was a gift from Aunt Emma-a four-leaf clover, for luck.

Unfortunately, though she kept her eyes peeled, it seemed that she was out of luck, at least where Handsome Stranger was concerned.

She sighed, remembering the way he had looked at her with those extraordinary silver-gray eyes. His face was regal. High cheekbones. Straight, firm mouth. Unsmiling, but not harsh-although Kelley had a sense that his expression could turn that way, easily.

“Oh, come on!” Kelley said aloud. “How ridiculous can you get? You saw the guy for all of twelve seconds!” Walking south, she skirted the edge of the Ramble until she got to the northern shore of the Lake, opposite the rocky outcropping of Hernshead.

Somehow, it had become dusk. Kelley had never really felt unsafe in Central Park-but on the other hand, she’d never gone traipsing about in it after dark. Nervously, she squinted up into a sky that had gone from deep blue to indigo with startling swiftness. It was eerily still in the park, she realized. Utterly silent. A thin veil of ground mist swirled, sweeping across the path in front of her. Kelley quickened her pace almost to a jog.

The surface of the Lake on her right was like a vast black pool of oil and so still that it reflected everything like a perfect mirror. She planned to skirt along the shore until she came to the eastern edge, near to where she could cross over and exit the park around Seventy-second Street. Then it was only about a ten-minute walk to home.

She hadn’t gotten very far when the sounds of screaming split the night air.

The raw noise shattered the stillness, chilling and horrific. Kelley froze, listening to the high-pitched cries. They sounded as if they were coming from the middle of the Lake.

“Hey!” Kelley called, frightened. “Hey! Do you need help?”

A cacophony of frantic splashing reached her ears as if in answer. Kelley started running toward the source of the sound. Mingling with the horrid screams that had first caught her attention was a deeper huffing sound, punctuated by the frenzied splashing-as though someone was flailing around in a panic. Drowning.

Make that some thing . Kelley stopped at the edge of the Lake, realizing with a start that there was a distinctly nonhuman quality to the noise. She squinted and could only just make out where the water in the middle of the Lake frothed white. Suddenly something rose from the center of the disturbance, bucking and rearing violently. Heart pounding, Kelley saw a horse’s head thrashing in the darkness.

The animal’s front hooves churned at the water, as though it was trying to climb the air. Then it sank deeper. The water closed over the drowning creature’s head again, choking off the sounds of its panicked whinnying. Kelley glanced around frantically.

“Help!” she called, but her voice sounded flat and small in the night. There wasn’t anyone around to hear her.

She turned back to the Lake desperately and saw the horse breach the surface again, floundering, losing strength.

The thought of an animal drowning while she stood there watching was more than Kelley could bear. She dropped her bag, shrugged out of her jacket, and kicked off her shoes. Then she dove into the Lake in a shallow arc.

The chill in the October air was nothing compared to the temperature of the pond. As she hit the water, Kelley thought for a brief, horrible moment that her heart would stop beating in shock. When she surfaced seconds later, she gasped painfully and faltered.

The horse whinnied again, sounding much weaker. Kelley pushed the needle-sharp cold from her thoughts and began swimming with strong, purposeful strokes. Six feet from the panicked creature, she treaded water, wary of the flailing, deadly hammers of its hooves.

“Shh, shhh.” Kelley tried to keep her teeth from chattering as she gentled it with her voice. “Nice horsie…good horse…easy there, fella.”

The animal bobbed its head wildly, its dark eyes rolling white at the edges and its nostrils flaring wide.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Kelley reached out a hand as she moved a little closer, treading water that was so cold it almost felt slushy. If she couldn’t succeed in helping the poor creature out of the Lake soon, Kelley knew that she would have to abandon the attempt. Her toes were already numb. “You’re okay. I’m here. I’ll help.”

She stretched her hand out farther, the tips of her fingers just barely touching the velvety skin of the horse’s muzzle.

Please don’t bite me , she thought desperately.

But instead, the animal pushed its nose into her hand, butting gently at her fingers and blowing out warm air.

“Okay. Good horsie. Okay.” Kelley swam closer, still careful to avoid the horse’s churning front legs. “Let’s get you out of here.”

She ran her hands along the animal’s flank below the waterline to see if she could determine what was wrong. The horse seemed uninjured, from the little she could tell, but its powerful hindquarters weren’t moving in the way they should to keep the creature afloat. She reached farther around under the surface of the water toward the horse’s rump, and for a second she thought that she could feel something cold and rough…almost slimy -like fish scales.

Kelley jerked her hand back.

You’re not a horse! she thought wildly.

Of course, that was ridiculous. The cold is affecting your brain, stupid. You’re imagining things .

She reached out again and, feeling with her hands, realized there was a tangled net of slippery lake weed that had become wound around the back end of the animal-what she must have mistaken for fishiness.

Kelley tugged at the strands of ropy vegetation, but the fibrous stuff was strong and she couldn’t get much of a grip. It kept slipping through her fingers, which were already stiff from the cold. Groaning in frustration, Kelley looked back to see that the horse wasn’t even struggling anymore. It just stared at her with one mournful eye. Its flaring nostrils were barely above the waterline.