Kiss of the Wolf

by Morgan Hawke

  Nearly moaning at the thought of the demise of her slippers, she headed back toward Yaroslav.

  Yaroslav collected something from the plain wooden table and met Thorn in the room’s center. “This is for you.” He lifted his hands and displayed a pinkie-thick, coiling silver chain with a ladies’ locket watch dangling from it. The silver casing was heavily inscribed with a design that looked vaguely familiar.

  Thorn’s mouth fell open. “For me?”

  “Indeed. I made it quite specifically for you.” He popped open the casing so she could see the pale cream watch face with its decorative Roman numerals and delicately filigreed hands.

  “It’s looks awfully…valuable.” She took a hasty step back and clasped her hands behind her. “Are you sure you want to give that to me?”

  “I do.” He opened the chain. “And, yes, it is very valuable. It holds my love for you.” He smiled. “Turn around.”

  Thorn turned her back and felt a tremor rack through her. A present…. She hadn’t had a present since…She winced. Since the Christmas before she’d become a werewolf. She didn’t even want to think about how long ago that had been.

  Yaroslav lifted the watch over her head and set it over her heart. “As long as this watch ticks, you will know my heart beats, even across an ocean.” He closed the chain around her neck.

  The weight of the watch settled against Thorn’s heart. She lifted the watch and stared at it in her palm. It was so pretty and so feminine. She bit down on her bottom lip. You definitely didn’t wear something like this with dungarees.

  Yaroslav leaned over her shoulder and whispered. “Hold it tight in your palm.”

  Thorn closed her hand around it. It warmed and expanded and then contracted ever so slightly in a double thump, like a heart beating. “Oh….” She opened her palm, but the watch lay perfectly still. It wasn’t moving at all. And yet she could still feel it, beating in her palm. The delicate hairs lifted all over her body. “Is there magic in this?”

  “Of course.” Yaroslav took her shoulders and turned her to face him. “All my heart is beating in your hands.” He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. “I would have your solemn promise that you will never give my heart away or leave it behind, even if something should happen to me.”

  If something should happen…A strange sort of pain engulfed her heart and burned in her eyes. “I promise.” She opened her eyes. “No matter where I go, or how far, I’ll keep this with me.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.” He leaned down, cupped her jaw, and pressed his lips softly to hers.

  Thorn parted her lips to receive his kiss. His tongue swept in to deliver exquisitely slow caresses that made her heart twist in her chest and her head reel. Her eyes closed, and she grabbed on to the lapel of his coat while clutching the watch to her heart in her other palm. A single tear slid down her cheek.

  He pulled back, releasing her lips. “What is this?”

  Thorn opened her eyes and looked away to wipe her palm across her damp cheek. “It’s nothing….”

  “Ah, my love….” Yaroslav smiled and nudged her hands away, using his thumb to brush away her tear.

  A loud, insistent knock echoed from the door.

  Yaroslav winced, straightened, and spat out something harsh and bitter.

  Thorn smiled and sniffed, wiping at her cheeks. “There goes that tender moment.”

  Yaroslav curled his lip, baring a long, pointed tooth. “Quite.” He turned to scowl at the door. “Yes! Come!”

  Thorn almost laughed.

  The door swung wide open. “Are you two ready yet?” Antonius bustled in, scowling. He carried an ornate golden helmet with a tall red horsehair crest under one arm. “We’re going to be late!” He threw back his swirling blood-red cape to reveal gold-plated, nearly anatomically correct Roman armor. His chest plate actually had nipples. Beneath it he wore a very short white tunic banded in purple.

  Thorn’s eyes widened. She’d seen Scottish kilts, but those went down to the knees. Antonius’s…hemline was positively indecent. She could not tear her gaze from his exposed muscular thighs. Her cheeks heated, and she suddenly felt more than a little overwarm. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. Note to self: don’t look below Antonius’s chest.

  Yaroslav frowned down at her. “Thorn?”

  Thorn turned to smile brightly up at him. “Yes?” Her voice came out just a little tight. She glanced sideways at Antonius.

  Antonius focused on Thorn. His smile was slow in coming and smug when it got there. “I think I’m going to enjoy playing honor guard tonight.”

  Yaroslav looked over at Antonius, and his brows dropped low over his black eyes. “Is that so?” He lifted his chin. “Then you may walk behind us, Antonius.” He looked down at Thorn and held out his arm in a clear invitation for her to set her hand on it. “Shall we go?”

  Thorn nearly chuckled. Someone was feeling possessive. She set her hand on his arm and nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Yaroslav swept out the door, with Thorn clutching his sleeve. Antonius followed close on their heels. Two more men in Roman armor joined them in the hall, and then two more. With breathless haste, they proceeded through a broad room painted in shades of deep red and then to the sweeping spiral stairwell and downward.

  They didn’t stop at the bottom but turned right into the broad entry hall and then continued straight out the broad front door.

  Thorn eyed the snow-covered lawn and jerked to a halt at the top of the portico steps. Her pretty little slippers….

  Yaroslav stopped one step down and raised a brow at her. “Thorn?”

  Thorn waved a hand out at the lawn. “I can’t walk out in that—my slippers will get ruined!” She froze with her lips still parted and then slapped a palm over her mouth and cringed. Oh, god, she sounded like a prissy little girl afraid to get dirty.

  Yaroslav shook his head and smiled. “Allow me….” He leaned close and swept her up into his arms to carry her down the steps.

  Thorn grabbed him around the shoulders, her cheeks scalding hot. “This is so, so…”

  Yaroslav strode across the snowy lawn. “It is romantic, yes?”

  “It’s embarrassing.” Thorn clenched her jaw. “I’m a werewolf, damnit.”

  Behind them, Antonius and at least two of his men did a poor job of stifling their chuckles. Yaroslav laughed outright.

  Very close to the cliff’s-edge garden wall, a flagstone patio set before a decorative wrought-iron gate had been swept clean of snow. Yaroslav carried Thorn onto the patio and then leaned down and set her on her feet.

  Her cheeks still burning, Thorn busied herself tugging at her coat and silk skirts.

  Yaroslav stared, delivering the distinct impression that he was waiting for something.

  She looked up at him. What?

  He folded his arms and raised his brow.

  Antonius watched the two of them with undisguised humor.

  She frowned. He was definitely waiting for something. Oh, yeah…. She sighed. “Thank you.”

  Yaroslav smiled and delivered a small bow. “It was my pleasure.”

  Antonius snorted and closed his eyes while covering his mouth.

  Thorn rolled her eyes. First the princess clothes, and now manners…. This night was going to be a royal pain in her ass, she could tell. She sighed and turned to stare out the gate. The cliff heights beyond were in full orange-and-violet-sunset display. A deep shadow encroached and spread to cover the lawn before the vampire prince’s house. Just past the garden wall, the fanciful Valkyrie approached.

  Thorn winced. Another balloon ride. Great…. “I don’t know if I can climb a ladder in these clothes.”

  “A ladder climb will not be necessary.” Rafael’s voice coming from behind them held clear humor.

  Yaroslav turned around. “My prince.”

  Thorn turned to look, too.

  The vampire prince was back in his flowing senatorial red robes, with the addition of a slender black circlet
around his brow that shimmered with dark rainbows. Striding across the snowy lawn around him was a veritable army of sword-bearing, black-robed vampires. Rafael stopped before Yaroslav and smiled at Antonius and Yaroslav’s men. “I see we have all gathered.” He raised a brow at Yaroslav and Thorn. “Finally.”

  Yaroslav bowed briefly and then raised his chin and cleared his throat. “I had…a bath.”

  Rafael’s smile broadened. “So I…heard.”

  Thorn’s cheeks heated, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

  Rafael shot a narrowed glance at Yaroslav and softened his voice. “I shall expect both of you to remain close at hand.”

  Yaroslav didn’t quite flinch. “Of course, my prince.”

  “Thorn.” Rafael raised his brow at her. “Please try to avoid biting the senators.” He smiled wryly. “No matter how richly they deserve it.”

  Thorn snorted. “Are you expecting them to deserve it?”

  “Absolutely.” Rafael’s smile tilted upward into a rakish grin. “Incidentally, you look positively enchanting.”

  Thorn had no idea where the urge came from—she just followed it. She inclined her head, stepped back, and delivered a deep curtsy. She even did it right. “I thank you for your fine compliment.” Her granny would have been very proud.

  Rafael, Antonius, and Yaroslav stared, eyes wide.

  Thorn frowned at each in turn. “What? I do have some manners, you know.” She folded her arms and added under her breath, “Just not many.”

  Rafael grinned and shook his head. “This may be more interesting than I expected.”

  Yaroslav rolled his eyes. “That is very much what I am afraid of.”

  Behind them, Antonius snorted. “I just love when Rafael thinks an event is going to be interesting.” His voice positively dripped with sarcasm. “He said the same thing about Agamemnon’s army.”

  Agamemnon? Thorn frowned. Where had she heard that name before?

  Yaroslav glanced back at Antonius. “I believe I remember him mentioning something similar about Genghis Khan.”

  Thorn frowned up at Yaroslav. “Is he like Kublai Khan?” She’d actually enjoyed the unfinished poem “Xanadu” by Coleridge.

  Yaroslav shook his head and sighed. “Genghis Khan was Kublai Khan’s grandfather.”

  “Ah?” Thorn’s mouth fell open. “Then Xanadu is a real place?”

  Yaroslav patted her shoulder. “It is indeed a place in China, though it has a different name.”

  Antonius sneered.

  Thorn chose to ignore him.

  A bearded man wearing a navy blue seaman’s coat and cap appeared at the gate in the garden wall. Antonius strode across the patio to meet with him. Soft words and nods were exchanged.

  Thorn frowned. Clearly the man was from the Valkyrie, but the airship had just gotten there. She couldn’t see how he’d gotten from the ship to the gate so fast. Had he jumped off?

  The man saluted Antonius and stepped away.

  Antonius returned and delivered a sharp salute to Rafael. “The Valkyrie is ready for your departure, my prince.”

  Rafael nodded. “My thanks, Master Antonius.” He nodded toward Yaroslav and Thorn and lifted his chin. “Shall we…?” He turned and strode for the far end of the patio and the gate. Two guards trotted ahead and opened the wrought-iron gate.

  Yaroslav and Thorn were swept along to the gate among the prince’s black-robed entourage, flanked by Antonius’s Roman-armored men. They passed through the gate and turned to the left into a tunnel carved into the cliff with a broad downward staircase. The staircase spiraled down and opened onto a broad stonework dock jutting out into open space. The Valkyrie waited at the very end, like any proper sailing ship. An ordinary railed gangway led from the dock to the ship.

  Thorn’s brows rose. Must be nice to be the prince.

  22

  Among shouts, clanging bells, and the deep, reverberating call of the airship’s steam whistle, the Valkyrie eased away from the cliff-side dock and headed for the far side of the gorge to the massive palace carved into the mountainside.

  The sunset view should have been spectacular. Unfortunately Thorn wasn’t able to see any of the panoramic scenery passing by. Pressed against the aft-deck bulkhead, Thorn scowled up at the armored vampires surrounding her. They stood a full stride away, but they were all taller and broader than she was. She couldn’t see a thing past them.

  Thorn moved to step past them.

  Antonius stepped in front of her and smiled. “And where do you think you’re going?”

  Thorn stepped to the side to go around him. “Over to the side. I can’t see anything from here.”

  Antonius stepped with her, blocking her in. “And anything can’t see you either.” He stepped toward her. “Be good, and stay where we can protect you.”

  Thorn backed away. She really didn’t like anyone being this close. “I didn’t need protection before!”

  “You weren’t part of the prince’s entourage before.” He kept coming, forcing her to step back until she was nearly up against the aft bulkhead. “Now you are, and that makes you a target.”

  She growled; she couldn’t help it. “Don’t crowd me!”

  “Then be good, and stay put!” Antonius set his hands on his hips. “If something happens to you, it’s my neck that pays for it.”

  Thorn snorted. “You’re not serious…?”

  “I am deadly serious.” Antonius glared at her. “Thorn, I take my orders directly from the prince. I am not assigned to guard someone unless there is reason for it.”

  Thorn folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not helpless.”

  Antonius sighed, and his smile reappeared. “No, you are not helpless, but nor are you among humans.”

  Thorn turned away. “Fine, I’ll stay here.”

  Antonius nodded. “Good. I’ll do my best to see that you’re not crowded, but you will remain under protection. Understood?”

  Thorn clenched her jaw. “Yeah, I get it.”

  Antonius moved away.

  Thorn scowled after him. This was going to be a major pain in the butt. She leaned a little to the left and spotted Rafael and Yaroslav sharing a quiet conversation only two long strides away from her.

  Yaroslav frowned deeply at the deck, with his arms folded across his chest. Though he nodded occasionally, he didn’t seem at all pleased with what the prince was saying.

  Thorn strained to listen, but with all the shipboard noise, hearing anything was impossible. She tried listening to his thoughts the way Yaroslav was always listening to hers, but she couldn’t feel a thing from him.

  Yaroslav glanced up at Thorn and then back down at the deck.

  A twinge of disappointment twisted in Thorn’s heart. He was keeping her out. She looked away. More secrets….

  Far sooner than Thorn expected, the airship bumped to a stop. The tone of shouts and whistles from the working shipmen changed.

  Yaroslav came to Thorn’s side and leaned close to her ear. “Stay close to me at all times.” He tucked her hand under his arm, pulling her close.

  Thorn didn’t get a chance to reply. The vampires moved en masse to the port side of the ship. Held tight against Yaroslav’s side, Thorn was hustled down the gangplank onto another jutting stonework dock. She caught only a glimpse of soaring pillars before she was hurried into another tunnel with yet another staircase.

  The staircase opened into a broad, arching, and vaulted hallway dimly lit with tiny glowing lights embedded high on the whitewashed walls. Thorn looked about curiously, but with all the vampire guards, it was impossible to catch more than a glimpse of the smooth, shadowed walls. They proceeded down the hallway at a fast march. The thick carpeting underfoot muffled their footsteps.

  They passed through a set of ornate and towering double doors of solid brass and stepped onto polished marble. Thorn could see little more than that the room they had entered was huge and circular, with a distant domed ceiling that seemed to be made of
glass. Sunset-stained clouds and early evening stars were clearly visible.

  The guards parted, and Rafael stepped past them, with Yaroslav and Thorn only a step behind. Finally she could see her surroundings.

  The chamber’s distant and curving walls were solid gold-flecked marble, and the white floor contained an inlaid, highly detailed map of the entire world. Tables were set three-quarters of the way around the room on upward tiers, with well over a hundred people seated behind them, wearing an incredible array of brilliant costumes under their hooded red robes. One story above, a pillared balcony held even more people in red robes, though theirs were banded in black.

  Rafael turned sharply to the right and strode for a broad alcove commanded by a massive black oak table with clawed feet and a matching thronelike chair cushioned with black velvet. The guards followed, and Thorn was swept along at Yaroslav’s side. Rafael stopped at the right side of the broad table and turned about to face the gathering in the tiers.

  Echoing voices hushed to whispers and then silence.

  Yaroslav drew Thorn off to the left side of the table, and they turned to face the staring, silent crowd.

  Thorn suddenly realized there was something odd about the people seated in the tiers and gathered on the balcony. A great number of the faces staring at her from under red hoods were not human in coloring or even shape. Many had tall ears, more than a few sported horns and tails, and a few had wings. In fact, the only ones that looked human were the vampires gathered around her.

  Antonius stepped forward. “All hail Rafael, High Prince of the Penumbral Realm!”

  As one, the people behind the desks stood.

  Thorn froze in place. What? Her hand tightened on Yaroslav’s sleeve. She had thought Rafael was the prince of vampires.

  Yaroslav glanced at her very briefly, and the shadow of his thoughts pressed against her mind. Rafael is indeed the prince of vampires. He gave her a fleeting smile. And, also, chosen ruler of all who mankind no longer believes exists.