She looked up, above the rows of wide, dark stairs to the door of a house that was nestled right into the stone wall. Everything was set in stone on this street, in this city. It was charming in the daylight, and was a reason she chose to study at the university here; she loved to stand at the bottom of the Grassmarket plaza—also stone, of course—and let her gaze play across the rows of roof lines marking the east-west run of each street, until they blended seamlessly with the Edinburgh castle walls high above.
But on a dark and moist night like this one, the street lights cast their filtered yellow rays across the edges of the city structures, and left the spaces between the stones unlit; black spaces, voids between the walls and outcroppings where you couldn't quite tell if there was something there or not. A tingle crawled up the lower part of her back as she looked up and down the wall in front of her, and she wondered if she could overcome her hesitation. What demons lurked inside this place? She laughed at herself. But damn, that guy was hot, and she wanted to see him tonight. She had to stop mind fucking herself out here and just get in.
She was an attractive young woman, standing hesitantly on Princess Street there, although she wouldn't have thought as much herself. A first-year student, wearing only a simple white t-shirt and jeans, cutting a trim figure, a small unicorn tattoo visible on her upper left arm just below the cuff, her hands folded across her chest in indecision as she squinted at the miniature fortress in front of her. The house could have been one hundred years old or a thousand years old; it was a permanent fixture on Princess Street, and over that time the stone stairs had blended seamlessly in color and texture into both its entrance arch and the polished street cobbles on which she was standing.
She sighed. Once already this evening she had stood in the same place, failing to gather her courage to climb and enter, to join the party whose noises she could hear pulsing through the thick stone walls, to pursue her target that evening. Instead she had fled to one of the many bars along the busy Royal Mile just a block away, and sampled a Macallan Scotch single malt. She didn't even like whiskey, but it was something to do. On the way there and back she took pleasure in strolling along the high street, peeking into the many steep alleyways—Edinburghers called them "closes"—that ran at irregular intervals. They had mystery, and the deep history of tens of thousands of humans living in such small bounds for generations. But she had returned to her perch at the bottom of the steps, watching the shapes of people, mostly likely other university students, moving in time to music behind dark red curtains.
A large group of Chinese tourists passed behind on the street, bumping her. "Excuse me," she said to them, annoyed, watching their backs as they shuffled on. It was almost ten at night, the street was fully dark, and the usual throng of visitors to the city had lessened to a trickle. Most were inside an establishment just like where she had spent the past hour, enjoying the best that Scotland had to offer for the past thousand years on a dark fall night such as this: whiskey, food, maybe a little entertainment, and companionship.
"Nika! There you are! Why aren't you at the party?" A bright-faced young woman bounced down the stairs towards her from door which now stood wide open, pouring bright light from the foyer onto the street; trailing behind on the stairs stepped an eager and smiling young man in a smart shirt and trousers. She was quite a contrast to—and seemed unaware of—the dark and powerful forces Nika sensed in this place when standing in her solitude, brooding; but in the month Nika had known her, Misty never slowed down much to perceive the things that Nika did. They were just different types of people. And Nika was probably overreacting anyway; her wild imagination had a way of getting away from her.
"Nika, this is Ostin," Misty said, pointing back to the redhead. "I met him here tonight. He's from France, and a student at the Uni, too!" Her blush as she looked to Ostin told Nika quickly that her friend was hoping for some fun that evening. He was a decent looking guy, and Nika was sympathetic to her desires. Misty was an outgoing girl. A flirt, even. It had made for an interesting friendship in their first month of school, Misty's energy and initiative complementing Nika's quieter and more reflective nature. Even though she could sometimes be exhausting, Nika was glad of the role her new friend played in her life and knew it was good to coax her out of her own shell. For instance, it was Misty who had found the "ghost tours" that filled Nika's mind tonight with the wondrous dark tales of Edinburgh's past.
Misty pointed down to Nika's chest. "I don't think that's going to make the impression you want. At least not from what you told me about tonight. . . ." Misty wiggled her eyebrows at her friend suggestively.
Nika looked down at her chest in surprise. She thought the tight shirt was flattering for her trim figure, and didn't see what was wrong. She ran her hands over her chest, then back at her friend, "Misty, what the hell, it's what I was born with. Not everybody has a figure like you."
"Not your boobs, silly. You have nice little titties. Right Ostin?" she shot back to her new friend who looked happily back and forth between the two girls chests and nodded like a puppy dog. "I mean your shirt!" Across Nika's white t-shirt, in bold black letters, was written the phrase, "CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE". Nika didn't think twice that morning when she had selected the outfit, one of her favorites. It was a gift from her sister back in their high school years, given in jest at a time when dumb guys would hit on both of them. She shrugged at Misty and smiled; it was too late to change now, but it didn't pay to get worried about things like that anyway. What was going to happen tonight would happen, if it was meant to be.
They turned to go in, and on the way back up the stairs, taking a last look at the stone facades on all sides of this alcove, Nika reflected on those ghost tour stories of the city and about this house in particular. Edinburgh swirled in legends, and the town's tourist trade never missed a chance to play up its dark history of over-crowded medieval living, deathly plagues, grave-robbing, early human medical research, criminal elements, child labor, ghost sightings, and more. The tour had even passed this very house, the guide telling them that it had been the home for hundreds of years of the royal executioners; their grisly deeds taking place in a public square not far from here up on the Royal Mile, a stone's throw from the Edinburgh castle.
But as they entered the bright entryway, the energy of the party swallowed them up, leaving behind Nika's forebodings from the street outside. The reason Nika was here, besides following along with Misty's unquenchable thirst for adventure, was to find her target for the evening: Zachary Fraser. He was the son of the current owner of this house, the tenured and powerful Professor Fraser at the university. Zachary was a quiet young man, mysterious, serious, the teaching assistant in the freshman philosophy course where Nika and Misty met at the start of the term.
"I'm Una, welcome to the Fraser house," said a woman's voice gushing in a heavy Scottish accent. Nika relished the up and down rolls in her voice as the jowls of her cheeks and chin wiggled. She was middle-aged, portly, and friendly. She looked from Misty to Nika, and down at Nika's t-shirt. 'Ah, this must be the bonnie lass you were waiting for! Well, don'na the pretty face suit the dish cloth!" she exclaimed brightly. Nika raised her eyebrows.
"Yes, thank you Una. This is Nika. I found her outside," Misty replied, and then in a mock confidential aside with a smile, "She was a little scared to come in here."
Una laughed. "Yes, yes, well the Fraser house has a way of doing that to folk. It's a wee bit intimidatin' it is. Well, come on in Nika, and I'm sure ye will have a good time now that ye made it in."
They thanked her for her hospitality and moved into the main rooms. "Who was that, and what was that about the dish cloth?" Nika asked her friends.
Misty shrugged. "Just some Scottish saying, I guess. She's the housekeeper. Very nice lady. And she thinks the same of your t-shirt as I do!" she said, and laughed.
Nika scanned the crowds. She had only one image in her mind. He had a thick lock of jet black hair and the most beautiful creamy and dreamy skin. Nika had never seen him smile, yet she was drawn to him, almost as if he possessed a dark power. Her favorite television series was Lucifer. The smooth English actor Tom Ellis absolutely captivated her, and she would never admit it to anybody, but more than a few times her mental images of that man smiling wryly and slowly undressing before her had been the sole entertainment for alone time in a hot bath. Zachary looked just like a Scottish version of that handsome devil.
The three of them ducked around some groups of students—nobody that Nika or Misty knew since they were just first years—and wound their way through the main rooms, stopping to get drinks. They gave each other a congratulatory toast and smiled. Moods were high, Misty especially gushing now that she had found her friend, ready to be a willing audience for her conquests with Ostin. What good was it getting a guy to fall helpless for you if you couldn't show off a little to somebody? Misty pushed her chest and ass out and wiggled a little, checking if any other hot guys nearby had noticed her.
The party was crowded, and the noise level of the chatter and music loud enough to make talking difficult. Only once did Nika get a glimpse of Zachary, standing tall in the midst of a group of students over by the entrance to the kitchen; mostly young women around him, all watching him closely while he listened attentively to their conversation. She wasn't happy to see this. But what did she expect? By far she wasn't the only one drawn to his good looks and mystery. And they weren't even invited to this party as undergraduates; Misty had just heard about it and pulled Nika into the idea of crashing. For the moment, Nika gave up trying to get closer to her man, and just watched from across the room. She wasn't eager to compete with a bunch of other girls for his attention; she wanted him alone.
A strong yearning overtook her. How was she ever going to approach him. He probably didn't even know she existed. She had tried to speak up in the discussion group, and thought she had made some good points here and there, but he hadn't yet shown any reaction to her, that he knew she was alive, much less a cute freshman hottie that he was dying to bang. During class, she had to take care not to stare at him too long, for fear he would look up and notice. And when he spoke, the rich tone of his voice was hypnotizing. She imagined listening to him read her poetry, by the fireplace. Warm and fuzzy, she felt like cuddling with him and falling asleep in his strong arms.
