“Yeah, but now she’s dead.”
He shook his head. “Marigold was old and her time had come. Trust me, the charm will get you where you need to go, but we’ll need to hurry.”
I nodded my head and took his hand. It was hot.
He pulled me forward, and we ran.
We sprinted between trees and down a gently sloping hill. We dodged overgrown shrubs and roots that threatened to trip us. Finally Jonathan slowed us down as we reached the stone wall of an old sheep farm. He retrieved a walking stick for each of us from the woods.
“Take these,” he said. “We need to look like tourists.”
It seemed to make sense. I took the shortest of the three while I caught my breath. When Chris took his I noticed he carried both of our packs over his shoulders.
I took mine from him. “Thanks,” I said.
We then began the trek, avoiding human activity as much as possible.
A part of me was feeling like a fugitive. The other part of me was somewhat relieved to be moving. Although I hadn’t been in the house for long, the notion I could have been trapped there had bothered me – safe or not.
I glanced at Chris.
He caught me looking at him and winked. I had to turn away. I wasn’t sure if I was still angry with him or not. He claimed he hadn’t charmed me into bed, but something wasn’t right there. At the time it had felt like I had chosen to do it. I had hungered for it, but as I let it brew in my mind I suppose I’d acted a little rash. It had all happened so fast. Too fast.
I shook my head. I needed to think about something else for now, so I caught up to Jonathan. I had other questions that were burning a hole through my mind.
I took stride next to him, which was challenging since his legs, although large like Chris’s were long. I could keep his pace if pressed, but I wasn’t sure for how long.
As if knowing, he slowed.
“Am I going too fast?” he asked.
I nodded. “A little.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not used to traveling with others.”
“You do this a lot? Walking the countryside?”
Chris caught up, but remained behind us.
Jonathan smiled. “Marigold asked me to fetch things all the time. Although she could leave for a few days, she never liked leaving for more than a few hours at a time.”
I never really thought about what his relationship with her was, but now that I thought of it, I had better ask, just to be sure.
“You’re not her son, are you?”
He laughed. “No. But she pretty much raised me. She said a woman had begged her to raise me from almost an infant. She was in danger, and she’d wanted her child to be safe. The woman said she would come back for me one day, but she never did. I was always welcome in Marigold’s home, and over the years I grew to be able to help her.”
I stopped to reach into my pack and pulled out a carved figurine, handing it to him. “I still have the little fox you gave me.” I wasn’t sure what had made me bring it. Maybe, somehow, I had actually hoped to see him again.
The dimples in his cheeks were huge as he smiled. “Wow, I remember this,” he said, running his fingers over it. He handed it back. “You kept it after all these years? And you brought it?”
Chris took stride next to me. “I hate to break up this little trip down memory lane, but we need to keep moving.” He looked at Jonathan. “We don’t need you. We have the broach. You can go now.”
Jonathan’s mischievous eyes lit up. “But the charm doesn’t work without me.”
Chris didn’t look like he was buying it. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a blood charm. It’s my blood in the stone.” He looked at me. “That’s how your Aunt was able to make visits into town. She took me with her.”
I knew something was a little odd about Jonathan traveling with Aunt Marigold every time she left the cottage. Then it hit me.
I side-stepped a protruding root along the path in front of us and stopped. “Your blood? What the heck is that about?”
Jonathan had that look like he’d been caught saying something he hadn’t meant to — his face got all contorted, like he wanted to take back his words.
Chris jumped in immediately. “He’s a Nymph.”
“A what?” I said.
“A Nymph,” Chris repeated. “That woman that left him with Marigold wasn’t human.”
You’ve got to be shitting me.
I couldn’t believe this. The two men I had fallen the hardest for in my life weren’t human? This was getting way too weird. What was next? Jonathan wasn’t really seventeen when I met him, but over a hundred years old instead?
Jonathan shrugged. “Well, the cat’s out of that bag, isn’t it?”
“What the hell is a Nymph?” I asked. Then I turned on Chris. “And for that matter, what are you?”
“I told you,” he said. “I’m a Changeling.”
“Half-breed,” Jonathan muttered with disdain.
“But half what?” I asked. I was starting to lose it. “Can someone please fill me in on what’s going on around here? My life is going all Twilight on me and I have no idea what I’m getting into. And when you’ve finished initiating me into this little fantasy world, I need to know who the hell this woman is that wants me dead.”
“Morgana?” Jonathan asked.
“Oh, she has a name?” I said. “Well that’s progress. Now who is she? And what does she want?”
“She’s one of the Winter Court — Dark Faeries. She was once one of the Summer Court, but I heard she was cast out.”
“And why does she want me dead?”
“I don’t know,” Jonathan said. “No one knows. Marigold tried for years to learn.” He started walking, like he decided he was finished with the conversation. “Let’s keep moving. We have a house to get to, right?”
It seemed a bit flippant.
Chris stood his ground. “How do we know we can trust you?”
I could feel control slipping from me again. There was too much happening here. Too many questions, and I took it out on Chris.
“And how do I know I can trust you?” I snapped. He looked wounded at the words. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. “You were supposed to be my friend, but you’ve been worming your way into my life for a year, trying to literally charm my pants off. Well, you finally succeeded. You got what you wanted, and you got me here like you were told to. So tell me why I need you here and why I should trust you?”
Again, his mouth twitched, but not much came out. Then, he finally gathered his composure. “I never meant to hurt you, Katherine. And I never charmed you into bed. I swear it.”
Jonathan snorted.
Somehow I wanted to believe him, but I wasn’t sure if I could. It was too plausible he had done it. The implications of that were starting to make my blood boil.
Sadly, I felt like I needed him. I couldn’t be alone with Jonathan. I barely knew him, at least, this Jonathan. I’d felt like I had known him inside and out that summer. But for all I knew, he could do the very same thing as Chris did, and I’d be some plaything of his.
And what the hell was a Nymph anyway?
That made me realize I didn’t want to be alone with either of them.
I didn’t say anything further. I turned on my heel and marched along the trail.
The walk through the rolling hills was invigorating, something I needed. I just focused on the walk, trying to put distance between me and Aunt Marigold’s house while attempting to temporarily put the two men — or whatever they were — who trailed me out of my head.
We passed more sheep farms and old cemeteries. Unnerving to me, Jonathan seemed jittery around the latter. He finally calmed when we reached a quaint town with cobbled sidewalks. I didn’t quite catch the name. It was “something on the something”.
In the distance dark clouds trailed us. Jonathan scrunched his face when he noticed them. I could swear he was sniffing the air.
&
nbsp; “Better find a place to get out of that,” he said. “It doesn’t look natural.”
We found a place to stay above a pub. Since we had to pay cash and not use credit cards, we had to share a room with two beds. The two of them looked at me, wondering who would be sharing my bed.
“You two can sleep together on that bed,” I said.
Jonathan shrugged. Chris had a blank look that didn’t say much either way. I was surprised one of them didn’t offer to take the floor.
The pub was friendly in comparison to the last one we’d been to. The mood inside remained light, even with the storm churning outside. The revelry inside seemed to be due to a local soccer win. None of the patrons were sober, and considering the amount of noise they were making, we knew none of us would be getting sleep for a while. We decided to join in.
The merriment was contagious. The locals seemed to accept us as one of their own — at least Chris and I. They sensed Jonathan’s reticence to interact and seemed to leave him to his own devices. I wasn’t sure what was going on with him. He smiled and drank only water. Other than that, he would make his way to the window from time to time. What he was looking for I wasn’t sure.
Chris and I both drank beer — the locals plying us with free rounds.
We managed to get cornered by an older gentleman with a few missing teeth. With his Lundberg stetson perched upon his head and pipe in his hand, he looked all the part of old English charm. He shared with us a tale. Chris and I hung off his every word.
“Now, the men of Shropshire in the west were well acquainted with the fey folk, or so it is said. And hundreds of years ago, such encounters were commonplace. One such man was Edric the Wild.
“One day when Edric was returning from a great hunt in the forest, he lost his way, and wandered about ‘til nightfall. But upon hearing faint music in the breeze, his heart was lifted and he found a house in the distance. He peered through the window and beheld six noble ladies dancing. They were of beauty beyond compare and garbed in fine, shimmering linens. These six women, they danced round, singing a song to which he could not understand the words. And in the midst of the six was a young maiden who surpassed the others in grace and beauty. One look upon her and Edric’s heart was stolen.
“Forgetting all that he had heard about the fey folk and faery curses, Edric decided he would take this woman for his wife. So he circled the house, searching for the entrance. He was a Lord of sorts, and thought he had the right to take her. So, he stormed in once he found the entrance and plucked the fair maiden from among her sisters, even though they had changed to beasts and attacked him. Throwing her across his horse like a sack of potatoes, he rode into the night with her sisters on his heels.
“He returned to his manor with the maiden. Upon arriving, she slid off the horse and strode ahead of him into the house. She sat in the corner and despite his best persuasions, she refused to utter a single word. There she sat through the rest of the day and through the night as well. When he arose in the morning there she sat still, watching all that he did. Through the next day and night, she still sat, speaking not a word, but watching. Then, on the eve of the third day, she broke her silence.
“‘I know you, Edric of the Wild,’ she said. ‘And I know what you would have of me. I will marry you, as you seem to be a good man, straight and true. But these things you must know,’ said she. ‘Luck and great health shall be yours as I am a Queen among the Faeries. But if you reproach me with who I am, the place from which you first laid eyes upon me, or my sisters from whom you stole me, then on that day, you will lose both your bride and your good fortune. I will return to the land of my birth and you will pine away to a quick death. Now do you swear by all that is good, that you shall do as I ask?’
“Edric pledged by all that was most sacred to be ever faithful to her, and they were wed. And a not a finer wedding had been seen among all the nobles from far and near whom Edric invited to their bridal feast. And all who knew of Edric and his Faery wife were glad for them.
“Now, at that time William the Norman, whom Edric had once fought but now had made peace with, was newly made the King of England. When the King heard of such a wonder, he invited the couple to his court, for he much desired to lay eyes upon this fair maiden and see the truth of it with his own eyes.
“Upon seeing them and the marvelous beauty of the lady, he declared them the fairest couple in all the kingdom, asking them to stay in his Court. And for a time they did, enjoying all the King had to offer them, until one day the hills of Shropshire called them to return.
“After many happy years, they had a child – a son of the Faery wife. But one day Edric could not find his wife upon returning from a late hunt. He called for her and searched. When at last she appeared he took angry with her.
“‘Where have you been, wife?’ he said with an angry look. ‘Have your sisters been keeping you from me?’ And at the moment those words of reproach slipped from his tongue, Edric realized his mistake. For in that brief instant that he mentioned her sisters, she vanished from sight.
“Edric’s grief was overwhelming. He searched high and low, even to the place where he had found her at first. But no tears, nor laments of his could summon her back. He cried for days without end, and he pined away as had been foretold to him. He then died of sorrow.
“And it is said, that even to this day, his ghost still searches for his beloved wife — the Faery woman who would accept no reproach.”
The man finished with a humble smile and I clapped and I thanked him for the story. I think he might have told another had I not yawned. The days had started to take their toll on me. I was exhausted.
“Well,” he said. “It’s time I be headin’ home. Now you two take care.” He looked over to where Jonathan watched at the window. “And mind the company you keep.” He nodded his head and shuffled out the door as we both thanked him again and bid him goodnight.
I rose from the table, Chris following my lead. Jonathan looked over from the window, so I motioned towards the stairs. He followed us up, leaving something by the sill — a piece of wood from what I could tell.
Back in the room, I had no qualms about stripping down to my underwear in front of them, although Jonathan’s stare lingered a little longer than Chris’s. A small part of me wanted Chris to see what he wouldn’t be sleeping with. I took my time getting under the covers.
I was curious to see what Jonathan looked like undressed. If his forearms and the v-shape that his shirt formed from his shoulders were any indication of how he was built, he was likely ripped. Sadly, he took off only his shoes and lay down on the bed beside Chris, fully dressed.
He didn’t smile, but there was something in his eyes that told me he knew I had been watching him.
Chapter 16
I wish I could say it had been a night of restful slumber. The bed was lumpy and the storm outside brought with it winds that rattled the windows. I woke with a feeling that someone was watching me.
I found Jonathan by the sill, fingering another piece of wood. He didn’t bother to turn away when I saw him.
“What is it?” I whispered. Chris seemed to be out cold.
“Nothing,” he said. “You should go back to sleep.”
I sat up. The rain pounded against the windows in waves. It was still dark, but the moon offered enough light to see that it was a pretty heavy downpour. I stood beside him, looking out.
There was no one about, but I could swear I caught some kind of movement in the shadows. I waited, and then caught it again; a skirting from one alley to another by a small creature with spikes on its back. It looked lean and lanky, but muscled. It skittered on all fours. It was no animal I was familiar with. Two more skirted through the shadows.
“What are those?” I asked.
“Howlers,” Jonathan said, pausing to study me. “She knows we’ve hidden you. She’s tracking us.”
He looked over at Chris’s slumbering body. “Those things can’t smell me, but they can smell
him. He could lead them away from us.”
I hadn’t sorted out what to do about Chris, but he was still a source of familiarity.
I shook my head. “Chris stays.”
Jonathan shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. At some point you’re going to have to trust me, Katherine.”
Trust him? He’d broke my heart. It wasn’t going to be that simple. He was my first love — one who’d taken years to overcome. Loving him had been more powerful than anything I had ever known.
But it wasn’t the time to be discussing that now.
“No offense, Jonathan, but I’ve known Chris longer.”
And he didn’t desert me without a word of goodbye.
Jonathan didn’t say anything, but with that one eyebrow raised, I knew what he was thinking.
For all that knowing, how much did I really know Chris? He hadn’t been honest with me. What was to say he wouldn’t do the same thing to me that Jonathan once did.
“Without Chris I’d already be dead,” I said. I had to justify it to myself, if not to him.
Again he shrugged. His fingers flipped a piece of wood between them as he peered once more out the window. The howlers still slunk through the rain.
“What is that?” I asked and reached for the wood. I got a small shock when our fingers made contact. He made a point of touching my hands with his for a little longer than necessary to pass it to me. His hands were warm, and a part of me wanted to feel those hands upon me once more. I remembered the heat he had filled my body with once upon a time.
I took the piece of wood, deciding that his fingers had been touching mine for too long. It was light, airy, with a carved rune on it. It felt like the fox he had once carved for me.
“It’s yew,” he said. “It wards off evil, but in this case, I’d need a whole forest to stop them.”
I just stared at him blankly. I had no idea what he was talking about and wasn’t going to fake it. He caught on without me having to ask.
“She really wants you. It takes a lot to control a pack of howlers — she had to have made a pretty hefty bargain with them. Why does she want you so badly?”
Broken: A Paranormal Romance Page 9
