by Marina Myles
As he headed into the night, his senses tingled. He must find her before she either froze or got attacked.
Constantin plowed through a few feet of deep snow. A wolf’s howl rattled a shiver through him. He jerked his head to the right. That’s when he spotted a dark figure sprawled on the ground.
Advancing on the crumpled body, he noticed that it was too small to be Karina. Although his leg ached fiercely, he tossed his cane aside and knelt down. Quickly, he brushed a layer of snow from the immobile body and stared into Grace Ann’s bluish face. His heart dropped. Then alarm seeped into his veins. He touched the girl’s full cheeks. They were stiff and frigid, as if she were frozen. Grace Ann clutched something tightly in her plump little hands. An empty vial.
He lifted the child in his arms and put an ear to her chest. Her heart was still beating, though it had slowed to a dangerous pace. Nostrils flared, Constantin eyed the red stain around her mouth.
Curses! What has Karina done?
He’d only known Grace Ann for a short while, but he’d formed an undeniable attachment to her.
Another howl rang out. What should he do? Bring the little girl back to the house? But he needed to save Karina, too.
Cradling Grace Ann, he retrieved his cane and trekked through the snow. He entered the forest on a quick limp and maneuvered through the tangled web of trees. Where was Karina? He hoped she’d returned to camp safely because that was the only place he could seek help for Grace Ann’s paralyzed condition.
A third howl pierced the night air. Heart hammering, Constantin tucked Grace Ann closer and hobbled in the direction of the Szgamy camp.
As he neared a clearing, he saw Karina standing in the center of a circle of wolves. She sucked in a breath and met his gaze. Then her stare darted back to the bristling wolves.
Constantin studied the creatures. Eyes redder than St. Nick’s velvet coat, they bared their sharp incisors. Panicked, Karina started to wave a fallen tree branch to and fro to ward them off.
The wolves hadn’t noticed Constantin yet. Insides undulating, he considered taking a step forward, but then he changed his mind. He had Grace Ann in his arms, after all.
Looking down at her, he felt his pulse thrum faster. Aquamarine crystals layered her face and her lips were an icy gray color. He looked at the vial still clutched in her grasp. She had replaced the cork in the vial’s top after she drank the elixir.
There is still some left.
He locked eyes with Karina. In that moment—while he stared into the terror that lit her pupils—the world fell into an unnatural silence. In his mind, he returned to the day at the tree.
She was depending on him to save her.
Did she cause trouble? Yes. Did she flare his anger? Inarguably. But she also made him feel incredibly alive. And he’d been miserable at Thorncliff Towers without her.
Who else would have been brave enough to try and get food for their people when they were starving? And what woman would agree to venture away from camp alone to face a dangerous, wolf-infested forest?
Constantin prayed he’d survive what he was about to do so they could be together.
Letting the cane fall out of his hands, he pried the vial from Grace Ann’s tiny hands and popped the cork. Karina’s eyes widened. She shook her head, unable to speak to him because it would alert the wolves.
If he drank the elixir, it had to contain some sort of magic, didn’t it?
Pulse speeding, he raised the vial to his lips.
Karina watched Constantin in a state of alarm, but it wasn’t wise for her to speak. If she did, she’d alert the wolves to his presence. And she hated to think what they would do.
Grace Ann lay limp in his arms and Karina teared up.
What was Constantin thinking? She couldn’t tell for sure, but he seemed desperate to save her and Grace Ann. She watched him steal the vial from the little girl’s rigid hand. Was he going to drink the remaining liquid? Karina knew her next course of action. Constantin mustn’t drink the elixir because it might counteract the spell she was about to cast. More than that, the elixir’s power had dissipated by then.
She murmured quickly under her breath, “Bitter wind is high. Bright moon is low. Change Constantin into a wolf with this blow.”
With a forward thrust of her hands, she commanded the snow to fly off the ground in an icy sheet. The makeshift wall blasted the wolves, distracting them long enough for her to hasten past them. Once she reached Constantin, she swiped at his scarred arm with the sharp tip of her ring. Her heart dropped. She’d given up her chance at love to spur the transformation needed.
She caught Grace Ann in her arms. Then she watched Constantin morph into an enormous, gray wolf. Fangs bared, he stalked toward the other animals. As his incisors gleamed in the moonlight, the smaller creatures hissed.
Because Constantin was taking a stance of protection for Karina and Grace Ann, the six wolves backed away. Gradually, they hung their heads, before they vanished into the forest.
Karina exhaled and hugged Grace Ann tightly.
Constantin bowed to her and she nodded back.
“You’re crazy, Constantin,” she choked out, “but you’re also brave.”
I learned it from you, he thought in his canine form.
“I panicked when the wolves appeared,” she said. “Every spell I learned fell out of my head.”
He put his paw out.
“I don’t know if your spell is temporary or permanent,” she added in a shaky voice. “I just know it’s unpredictable.”
“Unpredictable” wasn’t what he wanted to hear. What would become of him? Would his blood lust lead him to attack his Gypsy camp? He could smell Karina’s warm, delectable scent stream through her veins. But he needed to restrain himself and search for blood elsewhere.
“Go,” Karina commanded. “Head away from camp. Somehow I’ll find my way back there to treat Grace Ann. Return to me if you can.”
Although his heart was heavy and his thirst was tremendous, Constantin sprang off his haunches. Hurrying into the night, he wondered if he were a werewolf.
Craning his neck skyward, he saw no sign of a full moon. Yet he comprehended human words. He was confused . . . jump-started by this foreign energy.
The more he ran, the more he tried to remind himself that he would regret killing a human. Still, he smelled something as he neared Thorncliff Towers. More human blood. A squeal rose above the whipping wind. Mrs. Tidwell was inside the livestock shed—no doubt slaughtering a suckling pig for tomorrow’s meal. If he could scare the cook away, he’d eat the pig, with no harm done.
Stealing closer, he eyed Mrs. Tidwell through a cracked door. The coppery smell of her blood scent grew stronger as she moved about. His mouth watered. Destructive thoughts filled his head.
Incisors dripping, he stepped forward. A twig snapped underfoot. Mrs. Tidwell swung the pig around and jerked her stare to Constantin. Letting out a blood-curdling cry, she dropped the dead animal and tried to close the door to shut him out. Constantin managed to scamper inside while Mrs. Tidwell screamed louder.
Constantin was about to have his first—and hopefully only—meal of human flesh when he changed back into his human form.
Unpredictable spell, indeed.
By then, Mrs. Tidwell had scurried around him and zoomed outside into a shower of snow flurries. Constantin had never seen her move that fast! He fell against the wall, overcome with relief. The cook missed seeing him morph back and he hadn’t killed anyone.
Perhaps he hadn’t become a full-fledged werewolf because he’d only been scratched by a wolf before Karina came to Thorncliff Towers. Not bitten. Or maybe her spell only lasted a few minutes since he’d been merely grazed by her ring.
He’d have to ask her about it.
Karina. Was she resting comfortably at camp alongside Grace Ann? Regardless of his promise to Lord Winthrop to stay at Thorncliff Towers, Constantin needed to go there to find out. Karina and Grace Ann were precious to him.
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br /> Donning a pair of old work pants, boots, and a worn coat, he snatched a glance through the door Mrs. Tidwell had flung open. Icy shards of snow blazed across the countryside, making the ground shimmer like a river in the moonlight.
Constantin reemerged into the night despite the brutal weather. Unfortunately, someone was blocking his way.
6
“Stoica?” Lord Winthrop boomed. “What the hell are you doing out here?” The massive nobleman sat atop his black horse, as ominous as the Grim Reaper.
Constantin clenched his fists. “It’s Grace Ann, my lord. She’s gone missing.” He decided not to tell Winthrop that the girl drank the elixir Karina brought to the house. Winthrop would be furious. “I’m searching for her.”
Lord Winthrop threw him a distasteful look. Then he nodded. “That’s why my wife insisted I go out on this God-forsaken night. What’s more, Mrs. Tidwell claimed she saw a gray wolf in the livestock shed just now.”
Constantin gave an innocent shrug. “There’s no wolf here. Nor is there any sign of Grace Ann.” He paused. “I’m also looking for my friend, Karina.”
Winthrop’s horse neighed at the name. Constantin repressed a smile. Karina seemed to cause havoc with whomever—or whatever—she encountered.
“You’re looking for the Gypsy girl?” the earl asked.
“Yes,” Constantin replied. “I have a feeling Grace Ann followed her back to camp.”
Lord Winthrop’s eyes turned blacker. “In this outrageous storm?”
“Perhaps.”
“Blast you for bringing that woman here!”
Constantin was about to argue with the earl—insist that he hadn’t a thing to do with Karina’s appearance at Thorncliff Towers—but the altercation would have been a waste of time. Besides, he needed Winthrop to be of service. “My lord. Maybe if we visited my camp on horseback it would be faster—”
“I despise Gypsies.” Winthrop grunted. “But if it’ll get me out of this weather more quickly . . .”
The nobleman extended an arm to Constantin. Constantin clasped it and hoisted himself onto Lucifer’s back. The horse protested under the weight of the two, large men. But as its master directed it down a hill and into the forest, Lucifer seemed to find his second wind.
To be heard over the wailing snowstorm, Constantin yelled directions in Lord Winthrop’s ear. The two finally located the silent Gypsy camp. Since the snowstorm had driven all the tribe members inside their respective wagons, it stood as empty as a beach on a cold winter’s day.
“This is your territory, Stoica,” Lord Winthrop shouted grimly. “Where could the little girl be?”
Constantin leapt off the horse. At the same time, he spotted Karina’s red and gold wagon. After putting up a flexed hand to tell Winthrop to stay put, he climbed into it.
His eyes struggled to focus in the dim light. What if Grace Ann hadn’t made it? What if the wolves had gotten to her and Karina after all?
Padding forward, Constantin spied Karina hunched over Grace Ann’s body. His heart filled with joy. But when he saw that Grace Ann lay as limp as a rag doll in bed, his spirits plummeted.
A warm blanket swaddled the child’s small frame. Karina, who was cradling the back of her head, spoke in Romanian. She used her other hand to sweep a possum’s tail over the girl’s bluish face.
When Karina saw Constantin, she gasped. “Thank God! You made it back!”
He gulped. “Grace Ann?”
“I’m doing my best.” She guided the girl to a flat position.
The inner chamber of the wagon was warm. Moving quietly to Grace Ann, Constantin lifted one of her frozen hands in his. While he rubbed it to create friction, his knees buckled at the feel of her icy skin.
“She’s not responding to anything,” Karina whispered. “If only she’d waited longer to drink the elixir, its power would have dissipated completely.”
“What has the potion done to her?”
“It shut down her system.” Emotion thickened her tone. “I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t pull through.”
Karina began to cry. Her lips quivered, her hair was matted, and her face had been touched by frostbite. Yet she was the most beautiful woman Constantin had ever seen.
He wrapped his arm around her waist. “You healed your own leg twice, so it seems you can work miracles. Have you tried every treatment with Grace Ann?”
“Not everything. There’s an antidote for the elixir. But she isn’t conscious enough to swallow it.”
“She doesn’t have to be conscious.” With a powerful surge, he lifted the child’s torso off the bed and tilted it upward. “Get the antidote ready.”
Karina nodded. Producing a magenta-colored liquid from a cupboard filled with trinkets, vials, and good luck charms, she brought the tube to Constantin. With his free hand, he poured the liquid into Grace Ann’s mouth. Most of it ran down her chin, but the amount she ingested made her choke and sputter back to life.
She opened her eyes. “Constantin?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Where am I?”
He smiled gently and gave her a hug. “Do you remember that you wanted to see my Gypsy camp? Well, here you are.”
Grace Ann’s lashes, as long as spider legs, fluttered against her eyelids. “I am?”
“Yes.”
Karina hovered close.
“And you’re here, too, Karina?” Grace Ann asked. “Are you still mad at each other?”
“Don’t worry about us,” Constantin replied. “How do you feel?”
“Groggy.” She pressed three fingers against her temple. “But I don’t want to talk about me. Don’t you love Karina? After all, both of you are Gypsies. And she’s so pretty.”
Karina stroked Grace Ann’s hair.
A moment later, Grace Ann gasped. “I just realized something. You’re the dark-haired princess in the fairy tale Constantin tells me!”
“Fairy tale?” Karina repeated, confused.
Grace Ann turned to Constantin. “You said it was partly true.”
Constantin smiled at Karina. “Yes. She is my dark-haired princess.”
Karina blushed.
He kept his eyes on her. “I was out of my mind when I thought I lost Miss Petri in the snow.”
Tears rimmed Karina’s eyes. She looked hopeful.
“Oh, say you love her!” Grace Ann blurted.
“I do. Very much.”
Karina smiled, too, her tears flowing like a waterfall.
Constantin reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’d die if I lost you.” He pulled her toward him and sealed his lips over hers. With the force of a tidal wave, he deepened the kiss as if there were no tomorrow. “I’m sorry,” he said against her petal-soft lips.
“Sorry for what?” she asked.
“For being so focused on being right, that I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“My beliefs about you and magic were wrong—and I should have trusted you all along.”
“I would never use witchcraft for evil purposes.”
“I know that, now.” He kissed her again, loving the way her lithe body fit his, perfectly. She hummed with fire and brimstone and passion—all the qualities Constantin had rebuked most of his life. But as the wind howled around the sanctuary of the wagon, he knew that being with someone so fiery would fulfill his life forever.
“Constantin. Do you forgive me for what happened to Viktor?”
“I do.”
“This is the happiest day of my life,” Karina said.
“It’s wonderful!” Grace Ann clapped her hands.
Karina and Constantin clung to one another for a long time.
Grace Ann cleared her throat. “I hate to interrupt, but Grandmamma must be looking for me. I was a bit naughty back at the manor. I drank a strange red liquid—”
Karina pulled away from Constantin, cheeks flushed. “I found you frozen in the snow, my dear. I assumed you came looking for me, but when I picked you up, you didn’t
look as though you drank anything.”
“That’s funny.” The girl gave a frown. “I must have imagined it.”
Constantin took her hand. “Karina found you close to the Gypsy camp, so she carried you here.”
Grace Ann wiped her mouth then looked at the liquid on the back of her hand. Her eyes grew wide. “Gracious! What’s this?”
Karina said quickly, “It’s welcome punch. Every visitor gets some.”
Grace Ann ran her tongue over her teeth. “Mmm. Tastes like berries.”
Furious clomps on the stairs made everyone jerk their heads to the rear of the wagon. Lord Winthrop entered the space, glowering like a vulture whose dinner had been snatched away at the last minute. “Stoica. I’m impatient, cold, and tired.” He eyed Grace Ann. “Good thing we found you, young Miss. You had no business leaving Thorncliff Towers in the first place. You’ll surely face punishment.”
Grace Ann gave a little sniffle.
Constantin’s body quaked with anger. Why did Winthrop have to be so cruel? He faced the earl valiantly. “The child had quite a scare, my lord. I think it best she stay here tonight.”
“Very well.” Winthrop turned to leave. “I shall send someone for her on the morrow. Come along, Stoica.”
“I’m not going back to Thorncliff Towers, my lord.”
The earl stopped dead in his tracks. The tips of his ears flushed a deep red. “What did you say?” He whipped around.
“My lord.” Constantin’s nose flared. “I’ve served you well. My brother, Viktor, served you before I. We have more than repaid his debt. I’m in love with Karina . . . Miss Petri. I want to be with her—and I want to return to my people.”
“I say when your service with me is finished, Stoica. No one else!”
The wagon door creaked open. In rushed Isabella Winthrop. “Grace Ann!” The noblewoman rushed to the girl and wrapped her in her arms. “Are you all right?”
The little girl gulped. “Yes. Karina saved me.” She paused. “I’m sorry for being so curious, Lady Winthrop. I wanted to know where Karina was going.”
“It’s no matter,” Isabella said gently. “You’re safe now.”
Lord Winthrop placed a hand on his wife’s arm. “How did you arrive here?”
