And either one of those trips could be my last if I wasn’t careful.
Jonathan didn’t shower as long as I did. The door opened, and he stood there in a towel. I sat up when I saw the steam rising off his body. He looked like he did in my dream — huge shoulders, broad chest, and those ridges along each side of his abs that funneled my eyes downwards. A few stray beads of water rolled over the ripples on his stomach.
I had a lot of trouble keeping my mouth closed. Turning away wasn’t an option either. He was like some kind of demigod standing there — all smooth and flawless.
“What?” he said. His eyes were playful. “You took the only robe.”
I got up. I needed to get dressed.
He stood in front of me, blocking the tight path to the bathroom and my modesty.
“I guess I should move.” He paused. “If you want me to.”
I swallowed.
My eyes were even with his shoulders. I couldn’t look anywhere but at his chest. I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes, afraid of what I would find there. I had lost myself in them long ago, and I wasn’t sure I could recover a second time.
Besides, what about Chris?
He didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, he escorted me to the bed.
“Let me see your feet,” he said. He knelt in front of me and took one of my feet in his hands.
I refused to look in his eyes. I just looked down at my toes.
Don’t look at him Katherine. Don’t look.
He started with the heel, pressing on the bottom of it, rolling his thumb over it in slow, rhythmic pulses. I closed my eyes.
A moan escaped my lips.
I thought he’d move quickly onward, but he didn’t. He took his time, continuing to push against my heel, kneading it. I never knew how badly I needed this. I gripped the bed sheets.
He moved upwards, sliding his thumb into the arch of my foot. Both of his hands had a solid grasp, bracing my foot while his thumbs twisted their way upwards, pushing deep into the muscle.
Oh my god.
I resisted the urge to lie back, but with every stroke it was hard to remain upright. A warmth started to run up my legs. I kept my eyes closed.
He moved towards the ball of my foot, massaging the pads. He worked the pain out with slow, deliberate strokes. Then he lowered my foot and moved to the next. The moment he touched the heel I slid back on the bed. I couldn’t sit any longer, and everything inside of me shuddered.
The heat started to move its way up further.
I envisioned him sliding up towards me. In my mind, the warmth working its way up my legs was from the heat of his hardened body against me.
Again, he drove his thumb against the muscles in my foot. My toes curled. My eyes rolled back.
I groaned.
Heat now enveloped my whole body like a warm fire. He kept working at my foot until I almost cried out from the mix of relief and pleasure. Yet the thought that flashed through my head was how much I wished Chris was there. I missed his arms around me. I missed his delicate whispers in my ear.
The heat subsided and Jonathan lowered my foot. I felt him rise.
I opened my eyes.
And in his eyes I found ... nothing.
“You should get dressed,” he said. “And I think it’s time to use the earrings. We’re running out of time.”
I looked at him like an idiotic deer about to be plowed down by a Mack truck.
What the hell had just happened? Or not happened?
“Your feet should be fine now,” he said and slipped back into the washroom.
I looked up at the ceiling, trying to sort out what was going on. Was that some Nymph trick he’d just used on me? Was he testing me? Or was I really pining for him that badly?
Had he sensed my guilt over this?
I had to admit, after that experience, I could just imagine what sex with Jonathan would be like. The heat that had enveloped me had been consuming. My body was yearning for more. It was bringing back everything I’d felt at sixteen in torrents of cravings.
Yet the thinking part of me was sort of relieved it hadn’t actually happened. I had enough complications right now in trying to simply survive. I didn’t need a screwed up love life.
I sat up and went to the window. Rain fell in heavy sheets that made seeing the other side of the road almost impossible.
When Jonathan finished dressing I rushed into the washroom. I washed my face with cold water in the sink. It gave me some perspective and some relief from my body’s withdrawal. I rolled my ankles and wiggled my toes. He had certainly done a number on my feet. I felt like I was walking on air. I slipped back into my previous clothes and stepped out.
Jonathan was holding the earrings, and both of us knew I needed to get down to business. Nothing further was said about what might have happened.
I took them and hooked one in. “Take these out if anything looks strange,” I stated abruptly as I lay down on the bed.
He handed me his blade. “Take this with you. Take the scarf too,” he said, fetching it from the washroom. “Wear it.”
Strangely, it wasn’t stained with my blood. With one hand I clutched the blade, and with the other I hooked in the earring. I was ready.
This bitch needed to know who was boss.
Chapter 22
I found myself on a ship again, different from the last. And that was mostly because of the way the men were dressed. They were dashing through the corridors. Alarms were echoing through the passageway.
The sense of urgency was infectious, the fear palpable. The next thing I knew I was running with them, unsure of where I was going or whom I was looking for.
I just ran.
Of course, I was in the stupid, puffy dress again.
I stopped to look about, watching the men. One of them had to be who I was looking for. I was also watching for Morgana. The blade was still in my hand, cold and hard. I had no idea what to do with it, but it was here.
Pressed against the wall, I let the men run past. I knew they’d just go through me, but I still felt the need to get out of the way. They were all young. And Brits again.
The wall across from me had painted on it the name of the ship.
H.M.S. Queen Mary
I felt for them. If this was going to end like the last ship, most of them would likely not survive.
I knew I had better act quickly because things were likely going to take a bad turn soon. About to try another corridor further down the hall, a man grabbed my arm and pulled me with him.
I gasped.
How could he touch me?
“Come with me,” he said. “It’s not safe here.”
I looked at his face from the side. He was likely a Gregory from what I could see.
“How can you see me?” I asked, keeping pace with him.
He waited for some men to pass before speaking. “I’ve always been able to see your kind. I joined the Navy to be rid of you. This much metal should be keeping you away.”
My mind reeled. I still had a hard time grasping how he could see me. I decided to go with it though. I wasn’t sure I should tell him what was going to happen to him, or that it was him I was looking for.
“Then why are you helping me?”
“We’re in a battle. This is no place for someone like you.”
He paused to let three men pass, then he took me down another corridor.
“Besides, you remind me of my sister.”
I wondered if it was because of the scarf or the blade he could see me. Perhaps this set of earrings worked differently. And if he could see me….
Oh god. Morgana.
He pulled me round another corner into a tight space where he was pretty much pressed up against me. I got a better look at his face. He was definitely one of my own.
I wasn’t sure what he wanted. The blade was ready if I needed it.
He must have seen the fear in my face. His expression softened.
“I need to take you somewhere safe.” Hi
s lips pressed together. “Well, as safe as it’s going to be when the torpedoes hit.”
Huh? “What are you talking about?”
I was still trying to get my head around the fact I was actually talking to him.
“At 4:25, this ship is going to be blown in half. There will only be eight survivors. Your best chances are at the aft end of the ship.”
I blinked. “How do you know that?”
He pulled out a pair of emerald cufflinks. “My sister gave these to me.”
“Marigold,” I whispered.
He nodded and smiled. “You know her?”
I checked the earrings. They were still there. “She’s my grandfather’s aunt. She gave me something similar once.”
“They let me see the future,” he said.
“See the future? But I see the past, not the future.”
He nodded. “I did, too, at first. And I watched how my father died. This woman killed him. She drowned him.”
“Golden hair?” I asked.
He nodded. “I reversed the stones, just to see what would happen. My sister thinks we’re cursed. But I’m going to die on this ship. I’m not going to let her take me. I’ll die on my terms, not hers.”
I said nothing. He was either insane, or incredibly brave. For all either of us knew, Morgana could be aiming the torpedoes as we spoke.
“Marigold promised to look after my son,” he said. “And to find a way to end this.” More men were scurrying past the corridor. He pulled me out and we started walking once more. “If you’re here, that means my son was probably taken.” He pressed his lips together. “She’s your grandfather’s aunt? That would make me...”
“You’re my great-great-grandfather.”
“And Marigold is alive in your time?”
I nodded. “She just passed away.”
He had a twinkle in his eye, seemingly realizing she had found a way to live well beyond the number of years he expected. He didn’t comment on it as he escorted me through another metal corridor and then finally stopped outside a door.
“You have a better chance of survival in here.” He handed me the cufflinks. “I don’t need these any longer. I couldn’t bring myself to use them beyond my own death. I couldn’t bear to watch my son die at her hands.”
He turned to leave, but then paused. “Marigold told me something once. She said she used them herself. She made a deal with some Faery woman and took something to the future. Something she thought might end this once and for all. Did she give it to you?”
I didn’t know what to say. “She gave me earrings. I lost them on the last trip back. Morgana took them.”
“Morgana,” he muttered. “My mother told me my father used to cry that name out in his sleep. I think he loved her once, but she broke his heart.”
He began to walk away. “Good luck to you,” he said and then stopped. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Katherine,” I said.
“Good luck, Katherine. End this — for all our sakes.”
He then ran off to embrace his fate.
I stepped through the door where a number of men were arming torpedoes. I wondered what to do next. Should I wait around to see if Morgana showed up or run after him?
I didn’t have a moment to reconsider. An explosion rocked the ship and all of us fell to the ground. I decided I didn’t want to wait for more. I was still wearing the earrings, and hoped if I removed them I’d be transported back.
I yanked them out.
I woke up with Jonathan’s arms around me. He was asleep. It was dark in the room and a quick glance to the window told me it was well into the night.
I lay there unsure of what to do.
There was a comfort to his body lying against mine. As teenagers, he’d been all I could think of for so many years. And that summer, we had slept like this many times, huddled together on cool summer evenings.
After that unbelievable two months in his company, him being the only true friend I’d ever had, I’d left my heart behind in England, bruised and shattered. In all of my sixteen years, no one had ever cared for me like he had. Geoffrey had loved me in his own way I suppose, but what I had yearned for all my life Jonathan had given me — unconditional love, physical touch, and whispered words of affection. He had given it freely, asking for nothing in return. It had just been love, pure and simple.
And here it was, as if love had been waiting for me after all these years. My heart skipped.
What was I going to do? I didn’t think I could take letting him love me only to lose him again. My heart couldn’t take it. He had disappeared on me the night before I was supposed to leave. He had never said goodbye.
I had left that summer, broken beyond repair.
I lay there, with his arm around me, warm and comforting, yet tears slid down my face.
I was torn.
Chapter 23
When I woke I didn’t remember dreaming, which was probably good. I was a little tired of interpreting hidden meanings, seeing faeries, and bouncing around the past. It was good to just sleep.
Jonathan was already up. He was perched at the window. There was a softer look to his face.
“The sun is out,” he said. He turned back to let it shine on his face. “And I have an idea.”
I sat up. “Oh?”
He came over to the bed. There was an almost child-like glee in his eyes. “We should get to the house late today. And after, I want to see if we can recruit some help.”
I waited for him to continue. What kind of help had he planned on asking for? A unicorn? A magic flute? Maybe Merlin? I had no idea what to expect any more. Quite frankly, in a lot of ways, I couldn’t wait to get back to the concrete jungle.
“We can go direct to the Winter Court. The Queen may be willing to help.”
“Why?” I asked. “Whoever this Queen is, she doesn’t owe me anything. And if Morgana is holding Chris somewhere in the Court, wouldn’t that make her Morgana’s ally?”
Jonathan shook his head. “Are you kidding me? There’s constant infighting. Morgana wants to dethrone Queen Maeve just as badly as everyone else. And the Queen seeds chaos among the lot of them to secure her own position.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Morgana said you were one of her own. You’re a part of this Court, aren’t you?”
He nodded, but it was a hesitant one. “I was born into it — it’s not my choice. I want to enter the Summer Court, but it’s hard.” He paused then. “And I can’t mate with a human if I ever want to enter.”
That sort of hit me like a brick.
“Oh,” was all I could manage to utter.
There was silence then. He looked at me with an awkward smile. “So,” he said, “what do you think of my plan?”
I kind of blinked for a moment. He couldn’t mate with a human if he wanted to enter the Summer Court? Not that I had immediate plans to jump into the sack with him. But in that moment, I suppose it doused any chance of rediscovering any connection we once had.
The problem was, with his look of innocence and regret, I almost seemed to want him more. I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t all that secure in his conviction either. He had trouble holding my gaze.
I got up from the bed and looked out the window. The sun was warm against my face.
I had to clear my head. Too much complication.
Way too much.
“Let’s go,” I said. “You can tell me about this Queen and her little Court along the way. I want to get to this house of mine. I want to know what we’re looking for.”
Jonathan leapt over the bed, hugged me, and we readied ourselves in a hurry. We did not speak further about what had just been implied. Rather, we hit the road once more.
As it turned out, I didn’t need to buy new shoes. My feet were light. I felt like I could walk for days. Whatever Jonathan had done to me had worked like a charm. It made me wonder what else he could do to me if that was just a foot massage.
I kept stride with h
is quick pace while he told me of what to expect.
“Morgana, despite the power she wields, isn’t trusted by the Queen; or anyone else for that matter. There’s no trust at all among the Winter Court. And Maeve rules with fear.”
That didn’t make me feel any better. “And we’re going to ask for her help?”
He smiled. “Strange as it seems, the Queen was kicked out of the Summer Court by her own son because of his disdain for humans. It’s a long story, but it’s her weakness for humans that might help you. She’s taken many human lovers, even some women.” He almost choked on the words.
I wasn’t sure what he was implying, but I had no immediate plans to visit the Isle of Lesbos. I simply nodded.
“She feigns friendship with Morgana, but everyone knows she can’t stand her. So we need to seek a private audience with her. Asking her to turn against Morgana in front of the whole Court won’t work. She might just hand you over to her instead.”
We walked along a dirt path that cut through more rolling hills.
“Okay,” I said. “And how are we going to get past Morgana?”
“That’s just it. Morgana will be watching over Chris. He’ll be hidden in the dungeons somewhere. She won’t expect us to be heading to the Throne.”
“How do we get there?”
“I can go any time. You need a ring of toadstools, but they’re easy to grow. I can make one when we get to your home.”
“It’s not my home,” I said. “It’s an old house. Who knows if it’s even standing.”
“It will be your home,” he said. “If we can’t figure this out.”
“More like my prison,” I said. “I’ll end up like Aunt Marigold.”
“You know,” he said, “she had a good life. I don’t think she had any regrets. She told me that, you know. That no matter what happened, she had no regrets. But she worried for you.”
That made me wonder about his own motives which sort of blurted out of my mouth.
“Why are you helping me, by the way? Did Aunt Marigold put you up to this?”
Jonathan looked taken aback. “Don’t you know?” he asked.
I said nothing. I looked into his eyes and found confusion there. I was afraid to speculate where he was coming from. I had a suspicion, but couldn’t voice it. He couldn’t mate with humans. It couldn’t be anything more than a promise made to a dead woman. Nothing more. I couldn’t let it be anything more.
Broken: A Paranormal Romance Page 13
