Midsummer Bride Pt. 02

**Author's Note: I apologize if this is late. Didn't expect it to be long. Some facts may be messed up such as continuity but hopefully it's all right.

*****

Harper was in a deep sleep but some primal instinct for sensing danger woke him. He had allowed himself to be lulled to sleep beside Miranda. His arm was still wrapped around her. He looked down to see his member somewhat rigid.

Harper felt a light breeze at his back. His senses alert he turned to see that his window was open. He was sure he had closed it... He had central air and it was kinda warm that night except for the unnaturally chilly breeze.

He got out of bed, careful not to wake Miranda then closed the window and locked it. As soon as he did he heard a bump downstairs. Something knocking at his door.

THUNK. THUNK. Miranda stirred. Whimpering. Harper kept a gun in his night stand. Making sure the safety was off he crept downstairs following the thunking noise.

THUNK. THUNK. It was coming from the front door. Harper left the lights off.

The thunking sound fell into temp with his own heart. His pulse quickened with adrenaline.

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

The knock was heavier this time. Like someone or multiple someones were running at the door.

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. Harper thought the door would break. The knob jiggled with each THUNK.

Then came the voice of a woman who sounded feeble, child-like: "Open the door! Open the door I'm cold and tired. May I share your fire?"

"Who's there?" Harper called out.

"We got lost! Please let us in..." THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

Harper's cop instincts informed him otherwise. He was glad to have invested in an extra pad lock. His heart drummed in his ears as he cautiously reached for the lock.

"Don't open it."

Harper spun around to find Miranda wide awake, her green eyes wide in terror and beautiful face drained of color. She had the iron poker in hand.

"Open the door!" the voice pleaded. A howling wind rose outside.

"Go back upstairs," Harper ordered quietly. "Go into my room and lock the door."

Instead Miranda asked, "Where do you keep your tools?"

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

"Open the door! Give us the girl!"

The voice became multiple voices. They were hollow making Harper's blood run cold. He was not easily frightened but the next THUNK almost broke the door down.

"The closet down the hall," Harper told her. A hammer would be a good weapon too. The wind howled outside. As Miranda sprinted for the kitchen the fire place suddenly lit up into a roaring flame, bathing the room in an orange yellow glow. THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

Miranda came back with a portable nail gun that Harper received as a gift from his sister for Christmas last year. Before Harper could ask what she was doing Miranda began shooting the nails into the door. She shot in 7 long nails in a horse shoe pattern.

Once she was finished a terrible last shriek tore through the air. Then silence. The fire died leaving them once more in darkness. Harper was stunned. What just happened?

He looked down at Miranda's wrist to see the horned circle glowing but it quickly died away just like the flames in the fire place.

Miranda turned to Harper, her green eyes now calm, the panic receding from her body.

"Iron," Miranda explained in a sigh. "Fairies hate iron. Among other things."

"What was that?" Harper gaped. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a rational explanation for what just happened but couldn't find a sane option.

"We need iron at every door," Miranda walked past the dumbfounded inspector. "Hope you have enough nails."

Harper ran his hand through his short dirty blond hair, his gun still firm in his grip. Muscle memory held a secure grip on his weapons. He wasn't sure what to do next but do as Miranda said.

***

Miranda stirred. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in bed. Her heart stuttered until she saw Harper sleeping in the chair. He looked so peaceful. It would have been a sin to wake him. They had quite a night last night.

Miranda quietly got out of bed. The fibers in the carpet were warm, welcoming her cold feet. They were better now. The cuts weren't as bad as she thought. All of her wounds actually were almost completely healed... Strange.

The bed creaked as she lifted herself off the mattress. She walked over to Harper. The morning light illuminated his handsome face. He had a perfect sharp jaw with a mouth compressed in a hard line. He was deep in dreaming.

Miranda fought the urge to press her feminine lips onto his masculine mouth. Her loins quivered with excitement at the idea of kissing Harper's thin stern lips. To feel the hard pulse of his arousal between her thighs, against her cunt before he set it free then buried it deep inside her.

Miranda felt her scar itch. She looked at the circle with two horns. She had been in the fairy realm. The Otherworld. She was a captive of the King of the Fairies: Oberon.

Miranda swallowed the disquiet that gathered inside her to form a heavy stone in her throat. They had tried to take her again last night. They would try again.

She didn't feel hungry. That was strange. Miranda thought back to what her grandmother had taught her about fairies. Harper moved in his sleep. Well she may not be hungry but she was betting he would be.

***

The birds were singing their morning tune as Miranda went down stairs finding the quaint kitchen. Olive green cabinets, a brown wooden counter top with a simple off white fridge with more pictures of his family.

Some office yellow post-its. An old off white sink with a pewter spout and a chain and rubber stopper.

And a small round table with four chairs for an intimate family of four. She smiled to herself. It felt good to be in a house. To feel it's domestic energy wash over the panic and primal fear of the woods.

***

Harper smelled something burning. He woke with a start from his chair to see that Miranda wasn't in his bed which was made. Not taking any chances Harper crept downstairs, his hand gun ready.

He peaked around the corner to see Miranda at the stove. He noticed her wounds were rapidly healing at least... then he took in the woman standing in his kitchen.

Her long dark hair was somewhat matted but elegantly cascading in dark curls over her shoulder. She was wearing one of his other dress shirts.

A powder blue one that he wore to his sister's wedding. By far the only nice shirt he owned. It hung off Miranda's curves so nicely that Harper ashamedly felt a twitch in his cock.

She had fair shapely legs. He wondered what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his waist... his head?

What was it about a woman wearing a man's shirt that was so sexy? Two slices of toast popped out of the toaster just as Miranda turned and smiled at the dumbstruck Inspector.

"Morning," she smiled. "Thought I'd make breakfast. How do you like your eggs?"

Relieved that his house guest was safe, though still a bit flushed he coughed then said, "Sunny side up. Is that sausage?"

"Sorry I didn't wake you," Miranda apologized. "Hope you don't mind me cooking."

"Not at all," Harper got out some Prussian blue plates and coffee mugs from the pale green cabinets.

"You just looked so peaceful I didn't want to disturb you."

"Thanks for that."

Harper started to make coffee and got out the butter and jam for the toast. Harper noticed that Miranda was only cooking one egg yolk.

"You must be hungry after..." Harper started but thought better of it until Miranda finished for him.

"Being kidnapped?" She smiled at him with his crystal blue eyes dark and cynical but still kind. "You can say it."

Miranda placed a sunny side up egg and some sausages on the Prussian blue plate and handed it to Harper. She didn't eat but she did pour herself a cup of coffee.

They sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. It was a small perfectly round dark wood table made from oak. The table cloth was a blue and white plaid square matching the plates.

They sat in silence for a while. Enjoying the other's presence. Miranda pretended to sip the coffee. She put sugar and cream in it turning the black brew into a beige color.

Steam writhed like a serpent into the air. Miranda was hypnotized by it's dance. She sipped at the hot liquid but it didn't have a taste. She felt it's heat but couldn't taste the sugar or the cream or the coffee itself. Why?

"Dr. Bran should have the test results back for me today," Harper said after he finished his egg and sausage.

"What do you think they'll say?" Miranda asked, more curious than afraid.

"Well...," Harper sat back in his wooden seat, crossing his strong arms. Miranda watched as Harper's firm bicep tested the limit of his white cotton sleeve. She remembered them wrapped around her, how safe they made her feel. "You told me you remembered the name of the man who took you. Did he give you anything? Food that made you foggy or sick?"

Miranda closed her eyes trying to remember. Looking at the coffee mug a vision flashed before her. A golden chalice studded with emeralds filled with white liquid. It wasn't milk. She remembered taking only a sip...

"You were his captor for 7 years," Harper reminded her. "I'm sure it was traumatic for you. It'll come back to you..."

"I still can't believe it's been 7 years...," Miranda opened her eyes. "It only felt like a day. Grandma said time passed differently in the Otherworld."

"The Otherworld?"

They suddenly both heard a small scratching at the door. They exchanged looks. Harper took the carving knife firmly in his hand walking cautiously towards the door. Miranda tensed in her seat, ready to make a break for it.

The Inspector carefully opened the door. Harper saw that it was only a black house cat with large green eyes staring at him.

"Where did you come from?" Harper wondered aloud. The creature darted swiftly inside. In one leap he was on Miranda's lap.

"You have any neighbors with cats?" Miranda asked.

"Not that I know of...," Harper relaxed then shut the door. The cat rubbed itself against Miranda, purring all the while as she was scratched behind the ears and petted.

"I'm sure I have some cream," Harper got a bowl for the cat, pouring in the ivory liquid into a small wooden cereal bowl. The cat jumped off Miranda's lap and lapped at the cream in the bowl content. "Most likely a stray though I don't know many strays who would venture up here though..."

Harper sat back down opposite Miranda who watched him with her deep bejeweled pools. He felt he could lose himself in them. These eyes were serious though. Sober. Everything she was saying she believed.

"My friends and I are into the paranormal," Miranda explained continuing their conversation from earlier, holding the blue coffee mug in her palms. "That's why we came here. We heard that sometimes strange lights appear in the woods. People hear music and laughter but don't see anyone. Rick and Hayley were into aliens and ghosts but I was fascinated by fairies. I know that sounds silly..."

"A lot of Americans love Tinkerbell," Harper softly joked.

"No," Miranda stared at him unblinking, fear flashed in her olive green eyes. "Nothing as tame as Tinkerbell. Real. Scary creatures that steal children and kidnap humans. They tried to come in here and take me. You were there!"

"Miss Love...," Harper grappled with what to say. The girl was on edge. "I don't know what happened last night."

"They're the ones who took me... Oberon took me and...he..."

Miranda gripped the mug, her knuckles turning white. Her beautiful pink lips parted slightly as she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She felt her pussy dampen creating a stickiness between her thighs.

She may not remember but her cunt certainly did. It craved Oberon's cock as well as reviled it. Lust and shame made Miranda's chest tighten it was hard to breathe.

"Miranda...," it was the first time he spoke her name out loud. It felt so intimate. People don't know the intimacy that comes with calling a person by their first name because they take advantage of it. But when you go from Miss Love to Miranda that's when walls start crumbling down.

Harper couldn't help it. He reached across the table, placing his hand on her wrist. The warmth of his skin on hers brought Miranda back to the present. She smiled at him.

Harper felt her soft flesh. He wondered for a moment how it would feel to have her entirely naked and pressed against the rest of his bare flesh. Miranda sensed his thoughts. Slowly she rose from her seat then walked over to him.

She stood before him and they stared. Harper should have moved. He should have stopped this. But once again he found himself at the mercy of his desires. Miranda made the first move. She lowered herself then pressed her supple lips against his.

Miranda sat on his lap, caressing his face, Harper's stubble tickling her palms. Harper circled his arm around her waist while his other hand ran up her soft round thigh, pushing the shirt up and over her hips as their kiss deepened.

He could feel her nipples pucker, stiff through his shirt, poking into his chest.

She tasted different. Different from other women. He tasted berries and honey, but ten times sweeter. Miranda pressed herself harder against Harper.

She could feel his aching arousal beneath his cotton pants. It could have easily tore a hole through the fibers. Miranda's hand wandered down to set it free, her tongue already deep in Harper's mouth.

That's when Harper stopped her. He broke the kiss, his body screaming at him to go on.

"We shouldn't...," he whispered. His chest rose and fell as Miranda felt his rapid heart beat.

They stared at each other for a moment, measuring the other. Waiting for the other to make a move. Then by some saving grace they heard the front door open with a sweet voice along with a rough barking of a dog.

"Artemus," she called. "I got your call last night—"

Miranda and Harper looked to see a woman in her late 50s, fair slightly aged skin with shining hazel eyes, long white blond hair under a gypsy bandana and a stunning smile that quickly turned into an "O".

With her was an old golden lab with big brown eyes, his tail wagging, his hanging out of his mouth.

"Oh my," she placed a hand on her heart but laughed jovially. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

Miranda quickly hopped off Harper's lap. She tucked some loose hair behind her ear, looking away embarrassed and cheeks flushed with passion. The dog suddenly began to bark and growl at Miranda.

"Mrs. Everette, thank you for coming," Harper was afraid to get up because of the massive erection poking through his plaid cotton pants.

Mrs. Everette smirked devilishly, her hazel eyes twinkling with mischief as she set a paper bag on the table filled with girl clothes.

"You said you needed clothes for a girl. You made it sound so urgent," Mrs. Everette winked. "And what happened to this girl's old clothes I wonder."

"I'm Miranda," Miranda introduced herself. The dog barked and growled.

"Quiet, Churchill," Mrs. Everette ordered. "You don't have a cat do you? You know how Churchill can't stand them."

"Actually..."

The black cat suddenly made itself known. It hissed at Churchill who backed down, whimpering in defeat.

"Takes quite a little beast to cow Churchill," Mrs. Everette cocked an eyebrow impressed. Miranda loved her accent. It sounded so elegant yet rustic.

The older woman pulled out a red flower on black sun dress. It was something from the 1970s. It would cover Miranda's shoulders and reach down to her ankles.

"You look about my sister's size," Mrs. Everette pressed the dress to Miranda's body to see if the measurements were right. "She had a lovely figure too. Well until she had 8 runts now you'd never know she had a elegant figure that made all the boys chase her."

"I'm sure it'll fit, thank you, Mrs. Everette," Harper waved a hand. His erection was growing soft allowing him to stand without embarrassment.

Miranda smiled saying thank you then went up stairs with the rest of the clothes to change. The cat followed her, leaping up the stairs like lightning.

Mrs. Everette watched after her while Harper put the dishes in the sink.

"And where did you find that little flower?" she asked. "And since when do you have a cat?"

"She was a missing person, Miranda Love," Harper explained. "Gone missing 7 years ago until today. She was all cut up and bruised. The cat... well Miss Love found him meowing at my door and took it in. Definitely a stray."

"Poor girl," Mrs. Everette spoke with sympathy then she became skeptical. "She seems to be doing well now but I've never known strays to venture so far out of town."

Mrs. Everette began helping Harper clean up. She had been over his house so many times she knew where everything went. She would clean and watch his house for him when he needed it. Harper spent more time at work than at home.

"Yes, she's resilient," Harper admired. He ran the hot water and began lathering the sponge with dish soap.

"She has an odd energy," Mrs. Everette spoke mystified. "She's been touched by the Unseen."

Harper chuckled dryly. Mrs. Rosamund Everette fancied herself a druid. She regularly participated in the pagan holidays. Harper had been to her house. It was something out of Medieval times with dry herbs hanging from the ceiling, a cauldron in the fire place, crystals, and a spell book.

She ran a shop that sold "magical" shampoos, lotions, perfumes to help a person find fortune, protect them from harm, and love.

"She's been missing 7 years you say?" Mrs. Everette said. "How long does she believe she's been gone?"

Harper sighed tiredly. He tolerated Mrs. Everette's talk of fairies. Some people need to believe in something he guessed. This world was so dark and terrifying people needed someone to blame for their loved ones going missing.

"A day," Harper answered. "But she was drugged. You didn't see her when she came to the station. She was in a fog, her feet were cut and knees and elbows skimmed. Miss Love has been held captive."

He didn't turn but continued, "The world is already full of monsters and they're all too human."

But Miranda mentioned fairies as well. What was everyone's obsession with fairies? Mrs. Everette frowned, taking a firm motherly stance with her hands on her hips and eye brow arched.

"Artemus Harper," she spoke his full name with a sternness that made Harper wince. It was never good when a woman spoke his full name.

He felt like a little boy in trouble again. "You are going to have to forgive yourself one of these days. You did all you could do for that little girl."

Harper turned off the water letting the plate soak in the foggy hot water of food, grease, and soap. The sun beamed through the window then disappeared behind a gray cloud. He could still see that little girl's body butchered like a dog, her blood staining the concrete.

Then Harper saw the body of the one who would have killed again, himself holding the weapon.

"Miss Love was taken by some sick pervert," Harper insisted softly. "There are no such things as fairies."

***

Evening fell on them in a lazy fashion that was unique to summer. The golden sun began to descend leaving an orange, purple sky. Mrs. Everette spent the day with Miranda while Harper was on his cell phone with his station. Mrs. Everette was cooking dinner while Miranda and Harper sat on the couch in the living room.

They were a respectable distance a part though Harper could have easily inched forward and their knees would have touched. The couch was a burgundy cloth with dark blue pillows. It felt out of place in the rustic house. Too modern.

"The station contacted your family and friends," Harper explained. "Your parents are..." Miranda sat with her hands folded in her lap, her legs close together. She looked fetching in that dress. Her breasts were ample, wanting to say hello to him. Harper shook his head, trying to get rid of the dirty thoughts. This was serious.