“I will never tell you another untruth,” he said. “I don’t know if anyone has ever died of grieving but if you can’t forgive me, if you walk away, I think I might be the first.”
They stared into the windows of their souls, his dark eyes into hers and she leaned forward, found his lips with hers. The soft, tentative kiss ignited a fire and became deep and intense. His hands slid inside her blouse, ran up the length of her back and elicited a shiver of pleasure. All around them the woods sang with birdsong, the lake was still except for an occasional fish breaking the surface and there wasn’t another person around for miles. She wouldn’t be shy, she wouldn’t take whatever he was giving. She was going to take what she wanted, maybe punish him a little for leaving. Her breathing became shallow and her desire was becoming unbearable. Claire peeled the designer shirt over her head and let it fall to the blanket. His hands found the clasp to the bra and she slid out of it, her breasts firm and full as she guided the nipple into his mouth. It grew hard under his tongue and she wound her fingers in his hair to guide him to the other one. It needed attention, too. She knew how he liked to be controlled and she liked to be in control. Her skin prickled in pleasure as she tilted her head back and sighed with the feeling of his teeth as they nibbled, his beard as it tickled and his hands as they caressed.
She grabbed the hem of the tunic and slipped it up and over his head. It had soaked up most of the blood and the gashes seemed to be already healing. She had questions. The tattoos covering his chest and upper arms stood in stark contrast against the tanned skin and his shoulder had three slashes across it, still seeped blood. She pushed him down on his back, slipped out of her shorts and stood tall above him.
“Worship me,” she commanded, and he did, starting at her toes and working his way up.
Hours later, or maybe it was only moments, both of them sweating and trying to catch their breath, James wrapped his arms around her and she curled into him, her back against his chest. As their breathing slowed to normal, their hearts stopped hammering and their urgency was sated for the time being, Claire took his hands in hers. She held them over her heart.
“It beats for you,” she said.
“Without you, I am nothing,” he whispered in her ear. “Can you stay, Claire? Will you?”
She didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about the country he was from, the duties he would have, the world that he lived in. He was to be a King and she was a poor student from a small town in Washington. It was a fairy tale and she didn’t believe in fairy tales. She wasn’t Cinderella and with her nearly uncontrollable passion satisfied, she tried to see clearly. Love didn’t conquer all. Maybe there were rules he had to follow. Maybe she would be viewed as a gold digger and never accepted. Maybe loving her would destroy him and he would grow to resent her. She closed her eyes, kissed his fingers and was more confused than ever. She couldn’t make promises no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to know more.
When they reached the bed and breakfast Frank called for a car to pick him up. He insisted he couldn’t tarry for lunch but joined her on the porch when Mrs. Stalimanzer ordered him to sit. She fussed over the scratches and daubed them with a homemade poultice, tsked over the fading scars that covered his body, then draped one of her shawls over his shoulders.
“It will take them a good half hour to get here,” she said around her calabash pipe. “You stay right there, I’ll bring out some stew I have simmering.”
“She’s so nice.” Dana said as the old Gypsy woman disappeared through the doors in a cloud of cherry tobacco smoke, tinkling beads and a swirl of skirts. “Everyone here has been. It’s almost like it’s a different world. Have you known her long?”
“For a time,” Frank said, “since she was young.”
Dana squinted at him. The woman was much older than him, she was at least sixty or seventy and Frank couldn’t be more than forty. Maybe he meant young and pretty when he was just a boy. She didn’t have time to ponder it because Mrs. Stalimanzer came bustling through the doors with two steaming bowls, fresh baked bread and glasses of ice-cold buttermilk.
“When I come back out, those bowls best be empty,” she said and was gone again.
“You don’t want to get on her bad side, better eat up,” Frank said with a grin and a twinkle in his eye. “She can throw a powerful mojo on you if you make her mad.”
Dana chuffed, she didn’t believe in superstitions and voodoo hexes. She ate the stew, though. After the first bite, she couldn’t get enough. She’d never had wild boar and cleaned the last little bits of the stew with a hunk of bread. They ate mostly in silence and it was comfortable. Most of her dates were filled with banal small talk and the men usually tried to slip in double entendres or say something witty about sex every chance they got. It seemed like most of her boyfriend’s only went through the motions of taking her out because they knew it was what they had to do to get her back to their room. They didn’t really want to eat fine food or see a movie. She was pretty sure all of them would have said hell yeah! If she asked if they wanted to skip going out and just stay home and screw. Frank wasn’t like them, he wasn’t trying to flirt or be witty. He wasn’t self-conscious about his healthy sized belly or his hair that was in disarray from the swim in the lake. He treated her like a lady and he didn’t have a ring on his finger.
“Delicious,” she said and sat back in the wicker chair. “But tell me, mysterious Frank. Will I see you again?”
“Are all American women as forward as you?” he asked, a small smile at the edge of his lips, his eyes crinkled in merriment.
“No, I’m one of a kind,” she said, “but you didn’t answer me. I have to go back to the States in a few days so I have no choice but to be forward. Will you wine me and dine me? Will you take me out for a proper Galadorian night on the town?”
“It would be my honor, milady. But must you leave so soon? We could change your return flight easily enough,” he said.
“Maybe,” she said. “But what if you take me out and you’re a big bore and I’m eager to leave?”
Frank looked at her sideways and rubbed his jaw.
“Challenge accepted,” he said, as a sleek black car pulled into the circle driveway. “Give my thanks to Mrs. Stalimanzer, if you please. I’ll call you.”
“You don’t have my number!” Dana yelled down the sidewalk as he hurried towards the car.
He waved, climbed inside and they sped away.
Dana plopped back down in the chair and sighed as the old woman joined her, puffing on her pipe to keep it going.
“Bummer,” she said. “I thought he kind of liked me.”
“Oh, he did,” the lodge keeper answered. “He’ll call. That one is full of surprises.”
Dimitri stripped out of the heavy chain mail as soon as the shadows of the woods enclosed him and shifted to a half man, half wolf form. Almost instantly his feet elongated and became padded, much more suitable for running through the underbrush. With his hands still mostly human, he could carry the ancient armor easily. It didn’t occur to him to simply leave it by the lake and let Frank or James worry about retrieving it. It had been entrusted it to him, the very same chain mail, the Lorica Hamata, which had been worn by the soldier who had pierced Christs’ side when he hung on the cross. The young roman officer had been drenched by the blood and water that poured out. Dimitri wasn’t naive enough to believe the stories, to believe that the blood of the Christ was still visible in the links after two thousand years but he held it with reverence as he ran and noted with some pride that it had been given to him, the outsider. He shifted to his full wolf form once he reached the mouth of the cave and sniffed the air, searching for sign of any more hell spawn but the smells were the same. They had gone into the cave to rest and eat and only one had come out. It was in pieces, food for the bottom feeders in the lake. He double checked the cavern but everything inside was dead. He hated losing his comrades but maybe their deaths hadn’t been in vain. Maybe Stig and the other
s could find the portal where the monsters were escaping into the mountains of his homeland. Maybe the new king wouldn’t be as obstinate as the old one and they could work together. If not, he was sure there was another plan in the works. He needed to check in with the other wolves. He’d caught their scent as they drove through the village. There were at least a half dozen of his kind hiding out but he’d find them, find out why they were here and what they had in mind.
He shifted back to human, gathered his jeans and boots, slipped into his black leather jacket and carefully wrapped the chainmail in James’ clothes. He fingered the breakaway seams and nodded an appreciative head. It was a good idea. More than once he’d transformed in a rush and came back to find shredded rags to try to hide his nakedness. It was almost less conspicuous to remain a wolf than slink down the streets of St. Petersburg in tattered clothes when there was two feet of snow on the ground.
Scrimson joined the other council members and broken guards in the old woodsman’s hut. They were all torn up, some worse than others, and the councilmen were exhausted. They’d fought their hardest and had lost, the best they could achieve was to keep the beast cornered. If it and its offspring would have charged out together, they would have killed him and Frank and he knew it. Frank was a fierce warrior but he wasn’t a shifter. He’d gone after the baby and he was pretty sure he’d been able to track it down and kill it. If not, James and the wolf man would. He ached all over and was bone tired. He had to rest. New, younger guardians were needed now that portals had been breached. If an earthquake opened one, who’s to say it hadn’t opened more? Or would in the near future? No one knew where they were located or how many there were. The arrogant wolf pup had been right about that.
“It is finished,” Dimitri said as he entered and his nostrils flared at the coppery stench of blood, the sour smell of fear and spent adrenaline. “The creatures are all dead. In your country, anyway. They still roam freely in mine.”
“Where are Frank and James?” Tolley asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he saw the presumptive kings’ clothes and heard the gentle clink of his advisor’s chain mail.
“Off with the ladies.” Dimitri said. “Which is where I am going. I’ll be at the first bar I can find drinking whatever you have that passes for vodka. Can I entrust you with these?”
He presented the bundle of clothes.
“Yes, fine.” Scrimson said, waving to a place in a corner. “Leave them there, I’ll see they get them back.”
Dimitri ignored where he pointed and held them out for the interim king to take.
“From my hands to yours,” he said with solemnity. “You bear the burden.”
He held them until Scrimson grudgingly stood and said “From your hands to mine, I bear the burden.”
He released them then, the ancient words relieving one man of responsibility and another taking it. Dimitri knew Scrimson would ensure the mail was returned to its rightful owner. He wasn’t sure if any of them knew what it was or how valuable it was. All of their writings had been destroyed eons ago and he didn’t know how many of the stories and legends had survived being handed down orally for generations.
“Was there enough left of Stigmund to have a funeral?” Pallerson asked.
Dimitri paused at the door.
“Did none of you go inside the cave?” he asked, and looked at the bloody guardians.
“Of course we did!” Tolley spat back, indignant. “Who do you think killed everything in there except that last one?”
He realized they didn’t know Stig had gone through the portal with some of the wolves. They thought he’d been in the cave with the rest of the injured wolf men, tracked down and eaten by the demons. In the chaos of battle, no one had time to look around. They’d fled out the opening when they couldn’t bring down the largest of the monsters. The entrance was small, they could keep it inside but none of them had the strength to go in after it.
“He went to the other side, I’m pretty sure he’s helping my countrymen find the breached portal. All of this could have been avoided if you would have helped us, not let my people continue to get slaughtered.”
“How dare you talk to us like that?” Tolley blustered, but he was talking to the door. Dimitri was already headed down the path in search of his countrymen and a bar to celebrate their victory. Stig and the wolves would seal the opening and the bloodshed in Ukraine would be stopped or it wouldn’t. He’d deal with it later. It was obvious he couldn’t reason with the old guardians. They were too set in their ways. Maybe he could work with James once he was crowned. The man was childish in many ways, he’d never known hardship, but he was brave and brutally strong. Dimitri doubted he could have taken the she demon on his own, she was too fast and powerful, one of the biggest and meanest he’d ever seen. She must have been holding back from the fight, protecting her unborn many fanged baby when the guardians had rushed into the cave. She would have killed them all if she hadn’t been.
9
Knowledge
James walked her to the edge of the clearing near the lodge then kissed her passionately before he turned onto a trail that led up the mountain, telling her he had to finish the old traditional run and swim.
“From the smile on your face, I think it’s safe to assume you two have worked things out.” Dana said as Claire hummed her way up the steps of the porch. “I told you everything would be fine once you two saw each other.”
“Yeah,” Claire answered slowly with a dreamy look in her eyes as she sat in the chair Frank had vacated. “It just feels so right.”
“Where is he, still doing the rite of passage thing or whatever it was they were up to running around naked? Weird country but I kind of like it.”
“Yes. He said it was a tradition. We, um, we didn’t have a whole lot of time to talk.”
“Why Claire Bear, I do believe you are blushing.” Dana teased “Did he ask you to stay?”
“Yes, but I don’t know,” she said, eager to change the subject. “It’s all too much, he’s not who I thought he was. He’s going to be a king, Dana. A king. I don’t know where I fit in to all that.”
“You’ll fit in where you are meant to fit in,” the gypsy woman said kindly as she sat a bowl of boar stew down in front of her. “You can’t fight fate, it brought you two together for a reason.”
They smiled at her but when she left, they both exchanged a look and shook their heads. What did the old woman know about anything?
“So how was your walk with Frank?” Claire asked as she dug into the stew. She was famished.
“Oh, he’s sweet.” Dana beamed. “I think I could like him. We have a date.”
“Nice. Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” Dana admitted.
“When?”
“We really didn’t nail it down.” Dana said. “But he said he’d call.”
“Think he will?” Claire asked.
“I hope so,” she said. “We only have a few days before our flight back. But if he doesn’t, I’d understand. He does something in the government, he’s probably busy with the funeral and the coronation and all that.”
“He’ll call.” Mrs. Stalimanzer said as she joined them, taking a chair and puffing on her pipe. “I’ve known Frank for a long time and you’re the first lady I’ve seen him laugh with or speak more than a few words.”
“I hope so,” Dana said again, but she wasn’t so sure.
“Let me see your hand, dear,” the old woman said, and took it in both of hers. “I have a reputation in these mountains. Sometimes I have the second sight and tell fortunes pretty accurately but even when I can’t get a sense from someone, I can still read their palms.”
“I’m not sure if I believe in that stuff,” Dana said, but was intrigued to hear what the woman said.
“You don’t have to,” she said and stroked the girls palm with a long finger. “It believes in you.”
She went on to tell her she’d have a long, happy life as she pointed ou
t the different lines and what they meant.
“Your mount of Venus is thick and has many lines.” She said. “You are a loving woman with a big heart but I sense that heart has been hurt many times.”
“That’s modern love.” Dana quipped, but was a little disturbed that the woman had exposed her hidden fears. Had seen right though the mask of indifference. She acted as if it didn’t bother her that she’d never had a long-term relationship. She hid the feeling from herself most of the time. She had lots of friends who were boys, probably too many that turned into lovers but she had no one she was really friends with who also shared her bed. It was one or the other, she’d yet to find a boy who could be both, friend and lover.
The woman nodded but her eyes saw the truth. When she took Claire’s hand in hers, she ran a finger across her palm and told her much of the same general fluff that any fortune teller at a fair would say. Long life and prosperity, a difficulty she would overcome and burdens that she would learn to bear.
“You have an inner strength that you don’t know you possess,” she told her as she finished. “You are a fierce friend and both of those men would be fools not to pursue you ladies. I believe I see a night of dancing and romance in your futures. If the spirits tell me true, it will be soon.”
She gave them both a wide smile as a car made its way up the long drive.
“Your ride back to the city has arrived,” she said. “You two go collect your things, I’ll clean up here.”
She shooed them away when they tried to help and weren’t surprised when the same driver was waiting for them when they came downstairs.
He gave them a slight bow, gathered their suitcases and loaded them in the trunk as they thanked the woman for her hospitality.
“Where are we going?” Dana asked the driver when they were settled into the plush leather seats.
“To the palace,” he answered. “Master Frank said I should bring you to Madame Tarleton, she is preparing rooms for you.”
Heart of the Guardians: Adoring Destiny Page 6
