Storm may as well have said what rather than who. In context with what had happened, the two words were synonymous, and Sindri suspected the man didn't flee because he had nowhere else to go in the middle of nowhere.

The urge to disappear into the fae realm was as strong as the need to throw up, but Sindri did neither, pinned beneath those fearful, intense eyes that had been filled with humor mere moments ago. When that stupid driver decided to endanger their lives and force Sindri's hand.

She inched toward her door as well, prepared just in case with her seatbelt unbuckled, and her hand on the handle. "Please don't freak out," she began, processing several thoughts at once.

Storm kept himself plastered on his end of the vehicle and worked his mouth. "Don't freak out," he echoed slowly. "You sprouted wings and we're in a random snowy countryside when we should be in Phoenix—"

"In a heap of scrap metal shredded into confetti and likely severely injured," Sindri interjected, trying to help him understand she'd just saved his life. "That driver would have hit me and totaled your car if I hadn't acted. Your hockey career could have ended if we'd stayed."

Storm's panicked expression faltered as he sucked in a sharp breath and fell silent. Clearly, he hadn't yet considered the gravity of the situation.

Taking control of the conversation, Sindri attempted to address his other question. "As for your other inquiry, I suppose the simple answer is that I'm a fae." She left the rest unsaid; too much information would overwhelm him if Storm wasn't already questioning his sanity.

Doubt creased Storm's forehead as his hand trembled on the steering wheel. His breathing slowly evened out, and after a minute of silence, he exhaled. "Fae."

It wasn't a question; just a simple, one-syllable statement before he fell quiet again. Unlucky for him, Sindri had infinite patience and a millennium of practice. Releasing the door handle, she folded her hands in her lap and waited for Storm to crack.

Their stare down continued for another minute before he finally looked away, and he let go of the steering wheel to rub his face. After massaging his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, he shook his head. "I don't— This is—" he scratched the back of his neck. "Aren't fairies supposed to like, I don't know, be tiny?"

He pinched his fingers together, and Sindri laughed. She couldn't help it — her size was what he took from all this? When he dropped his head and frowned, Sindri recomposed herself and raised her hand apologetically. "Sorry. Of all the questions to ask, I wasn't expecting that. You're confusing me for a pixie, but they're basically our cousins. I suppose you could think of my kind to be more similar to elves."

"Elves." His eyebrows furrowed. "Like Lord of the Rings with wings?"

Sindri couldn't decide if she should be flattered or offended. The movies were awesome but didn't feel they shared much in common.

She sighed and tried again, waving her hands in a crossed 'X'. "Okay, forget the elves. We have wings, wield magic, and live forever. That's pretty much what you need to know. There are no orcs or rings of power looking to dominate Middle Earth."

Now it was Storm's turn to laugh as he released the seat and ran a hand through his wavy hair. "I'm almost surprised you know what that is. This whole situation is off the chain. I feel like I'm being punked."

Fair. Sindri would have felt the same if she'd been born in this century. No one believed in magic anymore. "We try not to reveal ourselves. It can be dangerous."

"How so?" he asked, shifting in his seat and leaning closer. Then he shivered and switched the air settings to warm while pressing the button for the seat warmer. "Also, I don't suppose we can go someplace a little warmer now that we're out of immediate danger?"

Sindri scraped her teeth over her bottom lip and bit her tongue as she gazed into the howling winter night. The wind had picked up, tossing snow in a diagonal northwestern direction. Several centimeters had already accumulated on the wiper blades and hood, melting too quickly against the idling metal to stick. A strong sense of familiarity tugged at her heart, even though at first glance, the landscape was an empty countryside with no remarkable features.

Ignoring his question, Sindri took her phone from her bag and tried to open the maps, but she had no reception. A blank screen appeared; the map refused to load altogether and she dropped the useless device in her lap in defeat. Her magic could do a lot of things, but it couldn't conjure an Internet connection when there were no towers nearby to manipulate. "I feel like I know this place, but without my maps, I can't say for sure where we ended up."

Storm's broad shoulders tensed as he glanced through the windscreen. "But you can get us back, right?"

The note of panic in his voice won over the selfish desire to leave the car and find her bearings. She could always come back later; Storm probably wanted to run as fast as possible and never look back.

Her arm glowed beneath her coat sleeve in the dark cab, drawing Storm's attention to it, and Sindri covered the rune with her other hand. "Yes, I can take you home."

Storm nodded, apparently satisfied, but surprised her when he rubbed his palms over his thighs as if he suddenly weren't in a hurry to leave. "So, why is it dangerous to reveal yourself?"

Old memories tightened Sindri's throat, making breathing difficult. Impossibly bright lights from the past blinded her retinas as men in white coats and masks restrained and experimented on her. Endless days passed between silence and screams. Complete and utter betrayal emanated from her lover's features as he brought government authorities to her house. He'd calmly pointed her out before crossing his arms and allowing them to take her, calling her a monster on the way out. Sixty years wasn't enough time to overcome that trauma, and she wouldn't have survived if the fae hadn't come for her. To reveal herself now was suicide, but it was too late to change what happened on the freeway.

Drawing shallow breaths, Sindri fought to remain in the present. "Humans..." Another gulp of air, "destroy what they don't understand. They feel this need to dissect anything different, claiming their actions are for the greater good. There's nothing good about being powerless and awake while you're sliced open and studied."

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks against her will. Vikings didn't cry. Sindri was stronger than this; that experience had strengthened her and made her wiser through a hard-learned lesson.

Storm wiped her tears with his thumb pads and tucked a curl behind Sindri's ear. "I'm sorry. When did that happen?"

Warmth spread to her cheeks where Storm touched her skin. Her rune tingled and itched, something that had never happened with anyone else. That has to mean something, right? "1965. I immigrated to Canada during the second World War and bought a small house in the Ontario countryside. I'm a glassblower, and selling jewelry brought a decent income. I met a man after the war and helped him overcome his shell shock, only for him to betray me when he found out what I was."

"That's a terrible thing to do to someone," he said quietly, removing his hand and dropping it on his leg, which he'd brought onto the seat with him. "If anyone is a monster, it's him."

Sindri shuddered while managing a weak smile. "Yet no matter what era we're in, humans manage to prove we haven't progressed. They're obsessed with their corrupt politics, holy wars, and cancel culture. Everyone wants what they want, and they want it now; it doesn't matter who they screw over if they can have their five minutes of fame or money in their pockets."

Storm raised an eyebrow and leaned against his door, relaxing his shoulders a fraction of an inch. "Fame isn't glory, and I already have that extra buck in my pocket. The problem is trying to find a woman who doesn't want to date me for those things, but when I hit you with that puck the other night, I just knew you were different. I don't give my number to anyone, yet I felt like I could trust you."

Wow. Sindri hadn't considered that perspective. She'd initially misjudged him as someone looking for an easy lay. No one could be that successful without some kind of flaw, and while she knew he had some tucked away somewhere, he'd managed to prove his sincerity through his compassion and not letting his fear dictate his reactions.

"You've got to be a little freaked out," she pressed, attempting to see if he'd reveal the truth. There was no way he'd accept what she was at face-value.

He shrugged and indicated her wings, stopping just shy of touching them. "I mean, yeah? You've got wings and busted out some seriously epic superhero moves. But even if I wanted to capitalize on that, who would believe me? I'd be accused of a hoax and the team would run every drug test imaginable on me."

Sindri laughed. "I don't have a cape or fabulous tights or giant boobs."

Now it was Storm's turn to snicker. "You could be one of the X-Men. Actually, my parents really wanted a girl so they could name me after Storm's character, and decided to go with it anyway once they got over their initial disappointment. I got my mother's fair skin and came out nothing like the superhero I was meant to be named for."

That had to be an interesting childhood. Storm was already an unusual name, and kids could be mean. Sindri wondered if he was teased for it growing up but decided not to pry. He'd tell her if he wanted her to know.

"My parents wanted a boy," Sindri confessed with a giggle. "We didn't exactly have ultrasound technology when I was growing up." At the time, her name had been popular for men, but had thankfully grown more gender neutral over the years.

"You weren't always a fae?" he asked, gradually leaning closer and resting his elbow on his knee.

Sindri shook her head. "It's complicated, but I was born human. I didn't become this way until I was nineteen, and if I'd made it a few more months to my next birthday, I would have been a free woman among my people."

"How old are you?"

His questions somehow kept taking her by surprise. Most people would have taken out their cell phones to snap video evidence, yet he hadn't reached for his pockets once. And the first thing Sindri had checked for earlier in the evening was a dash cam in the event she needed to disable it. Storm's interest seemed genuine, as did his blunt delivery.

Grinning, she asked, "Did you really just ask my age?"

"Did you really teleport us out of traffic in front of thousands of people?"

Touché. Storm could be a fae, answering questions with questions. He'd be quite good at misdirection if he had more tact.

"My ID says I'm twenty-eight."

He rolled his eyes and smirked before positioning himself properly in the seat and resting his hands on the wheel. "And how long have you been that way?"

Sindri laughed at the audacity. It reminded her of her first meeting with Elvinia, when she'd kept asking if Loki was the queen's lover — something she still didn't have confirmation for. "A very long time. If you keep this up, I'll start asking you awkward questions and see how you like it."

Amusement in the form of that cute little dimple formed beneath his beard. Then he whistled softly and said, "This is the weirdest date I've ever been on."

"But it was memorable," she replied, lifting her index finger. "Are you ready for me to send you home? You're shivering."

And he was, even though he didn't complain. His dress coat was meant for mild winters, and if Sindri had to venture a guess, she'd say they were somewhere in Northern Europe. Her rune hadn't stopped itching, and that sense of familiarity hadn't stopped begging her to check her surroundings.

Storm furrowed his brows and stared forward, sucking lips bottom lip through his teeth. After a moment, he shook his head. "I won't lie and say I don't want to go home. This is a lot to process, and part of me is convinced this is a bizarre dream after too much partying. That said, I feel like there's something you want first."

How did he know that? Was he a mind reader now? "What makes you say that?"

He cast her a knowing grin. "You mentioned it when we arrived. You said it seemed familiar."

Oh, right. Sindri blamed the stress from her unusual circumstances. She was tempted to dump this all on Loki too, but not even he could bear responsibility for thousands of terrible and impatient drivers. That was definitely an Arizona thing.

"I'm not about to go out and explore this place in a blizzard," she replied, "and if I'm correct, anything of significance to me is buried under pumice and sediment."

"Where do you think we are?"

The only place on Earth with any real significance. "Iceland. This is where I was born." And where Loki cursed her and where she'd fled her home to pursue a life of freedom, endangering her family in the process. But to admit her biggest, most selfish mistake would be to confess her biggest failing: that she'd been a terrible person for not accepting her duties as the eldest daughter. If she'd been a good child, she'd have sacrificed her independence to give her father and siblings a better life, even if their troubles had been a result of the older man's carelessness and vanity.

Ignoring the weight on her chest took a monumental effort, but Sindri told herself it was for the best. Some things were better left buried in the past, including broken offerings to a silent god and haunting memories of the life she'd spent a thousand years running from.

Without another word, she snapped her fingers and watched as the environment blinked from a snow-covered rural countryside to her rain-sodden driveway in Scottsdale.

Sindri wouldn't keep Storm against his will. If he wanted to go home, he was free to do so without her interference. At least one of them deserved to pursue happiness, and that person wasn't her.

The magic, combined with the night's unexpected turn of events had left her exhausted, and all she wanted was to sleep. But first, she needed to lose the wings so her neighbors didn't ask questions.

Once she successfully hid them, Sindri gathered her clutch and stared at her lap. "Well, we're here. You're free to go home. I'm sorry everything had to get weird."

Storm's mouth turned down as he, too stared ahead and refused to make eye contact. He drummed his fingers on the wheel before releasing a soft sigh. "I don't even know what to think. This was the craziest night of my life, and honestly?" He shrugged, still looking anywhere but her. "I think I need some time to figure this out."

Basically, an 'I'll call you' while insinuating he intended to ghost her. Sindri knew enough about dating to be certain this wasn't a good thing. And no matter how much she'd tried to avoid this date and tell herself it wouldn't lead anywhere, this hurt almost as much as the betrayal. She hadn't wanted to get her hopes up, and she'd still managed to do just that. And now, she was no closer to being human than she'd been a thousand years ago.

Maybe she deserved this punishment.

She didn't respond as she scurried outside in the steady rain. What was there to say when there was no smooth recovery on either side? Emotions from remorse, mortification, and disappointment propelled her forward, and she didn't look back once before unlocking and slamming the door behind her.

WC: 2664
Overall WC: 21556
20k Word Milestone Reached