by Sunny
"I had a charmed childhood." As far as injuries went. The rest of it, not so charmed.
Gryphon eased me forward to gaze at my back. He ran a finger lightly over where his sharp talons had punctured my skin. "I regret that I had to hurt you," he said with quiet sorrow, his rich blue eyes clouded over with remorse.
I laid a hand over his. "Hey, much better than being alligator meat."
"If you're not sure how quickly you heal, you should go the ER, have them stitch this up," Thaddeus said persistently.
"How bad is 'this? " I asked, swallowing. "Do you think it's healed any?"
"I can't tell," my ever-truthful brother replied. "Too much blood."
Okay. Don't look, don't look. Or I'd be doing another swan dive.
"No hospital," I insisted stubbornly. Thaddeus looked like he was going to usurp my decision and the others frankly looked inclined to support his little revolt. I zeroed in on my likeliest ally. "Rosemary, take me up to my room, please. Help me get cleaned up."
"Well, that certainly cannot hurt your wound," she muttered sarcastically. Okay… maybe she was inclined to support the revolt as well.
Thankfully I felt her big arms wrap around me and carefully lift me up. It felt a little weird being carried up a winding staircase by a woman. Crap, how many stairs could a house, mansion, whatever, have?
Rosemary, bless her stout heart, brought me straight into the shower. It was more than big enough to hold two people, and for once I was thankful for all that luxurious space. We left my muddy clothes on the shower floor, dripping dark brown rivulets toward the drain. I felt like a baby as she toweled me dry and slipped the comfortable T-shirt that I slept in over my head, but I didn't complain, only sighed in relief as she laid me on the bed and propped a folded fluffy towel under my leg.
"How does it look?" I asked her.
"Like something big took a bite out of you."
"Not helpful," I muttered. No help for it. Bracing myself, I cautiously looked down at my leg. I wasn't entirely sure—my first look had been in a fainting swoon, after all—but I think it was a little better. Or maybe that was just because it had been cleaned up. It wasn't bleeding much, just oozing sullenly, and throbbing like an abscessed tooth ready to spew out its rotten pus and decay.
I swallowed, took a shallow breath, and looked away. Rosemary pressed a clean washcloth to my leg. The poor towels. Between Dontaine and I, we would have a bunch of them to replace.
The thump thump thump of whirling blades grew loud and deafening in my sensitive ears before I mentally turned the volume down. "What's happening?" I asked Rosemary. She'd gone to the window, peering out.
"It's a helicopter."
I know that, I wanted to say, but kept my sarcasm tightly clamped and unspoken. It wouldn't help, and she'd been only kind and helpful to me.
The wind from the whirring blades through the open window blew back Rosemary's hair, and the curtains fluttered as the helicopter landed.
"What's a helicopter doing here?" I asked.
Before she had time to answer, the noisy aircraft had lifted from the ground and flew away, and the answer to my question hurried up the stairs and walked into my room.
"Halcyon?" I said, gawking at the golden-skinned man who had just entered. He was a slim man of average height and average build. An elegant man with expensive and exquisite taste. He wore his usual ivory silk shirt—he had a closetful of them. I know, I saw them. But instead of the diamond cufflinks, black onyx rimmed with gold peeked in tasteful display from his cuffs today. Narrow tailored black pants and dashing knee-high black kid boots completed the outfit. With his somber expression and aloof air of reserve, he looked like a nobleman from an era a couple of centuries gone by. It was what I'd first noticed about him when we had met—that reserve, that apartness from others, that… loneliness.
No one would guess at first glance that he was the High Prince of Hell. That he was the demon dead, something that even the Monère feared. The demon dead were what the Monère became when they died, those with strong enough psychic power to make the transition to Hell and sustain a physical presence there. There was nothing unusual about Halcyon that one could sense but for his golden skin and those long nails that graced his fingertips, sharp as knives.
"Mona Lisa." His voice was as cultured, as elegant as the man himself. The worry I saw in his face, however, was foreign. Worry was not something you usually saw in his face. Worry was usually in the other guy's face.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, pulling the bedsheet up high, suddenly, terribly conscious that the last time I'd seen him, he had brought me to a dripping climax from a bite alone, sipping my blood. A small taste of me as I taste you.
I became vividly aware that I wasn't wearing a bra, not that I really needed one, lightly built as I was, but it was a shield of sorts between my nipples and the revealing sheet. Even worse, I was highly conscious of the fact that I wasn't wearing any underwear. Not a state you wanted to be in before a man who didn't even need to touch you to really touch you.
Another person slipped into the room. "Healer Janelle," I said like a numb nut, "what are you doing here?"
She wore her usual maroon gown that denoted her gift and her status. Janelle was the High Council's resident healer back in Minnesota.
I know. What's in Minnesota, right? It's a place with acres and acres of pristine land and untouched forests, right near the border of Canada. Perfect really for Monère headquarters.
Hey, it'd worked so far.
"Gryphon called us and told us that you were injured and that there was no healer available to you here." She came to the bed, tut-tutting as she saw my leg. Turning to the others, she said, "If you will give me a moment alone, please, with my patient."
It took a lot of guts to kick the High Prince of Hell out of a room, and to do so politely. Halcyon nodded and graciously stepped outside, Rosemary behind him. I unclutched my flimsy sheet and relaxed. Janelle, watching me, just quirked her brow.
"It's, uh, nice of Halcyon to escort you here," I said. "To see that you arrived safely."
"It was not my safety that was his primary concern," Janelle replied dryly.
Okay.
"Have you tried to heal yourself?" she asked.
The thought of healing myself had, in fact, occurred to me. I'd actually been expecting Gryphon to walk in instead of Halcyon. But somehow, being all torn up and gory and throbbing with pain that really, really hurt, didn't quite put you in the mood for sex, at least when I was the one hurt. See, real limitations here with my healing gift.
I shook my head.
"Would you like to try?" Janelle asked. "Or would you rather I save the lesson for later and heal you first?"
I looked up and searched her eyes. They were as kind and as clear as always. No hidden innuendo, no sign that she was suggesting we engage in a bout of lesbian sex. Was she?
"I, um, can't seem to heal myself without being intimate with others."
She blinked. "I see. Have you ever tried healing without sex?" She had no problems using the three-lettered s-e-x word, obviously. Though it was odd as hell hearing sex coming out of her serene mouth.
Thoughts of Gryphon guiding my hand down to cover Dontaine's stiff groin flashed through my mind. I pushed it away. "Yes, and I wasn't able to," I replied.
"You were able to take away pain with touch, if I remember correctly."
I nodded.
"Would you like to try at least that?" she asked.
That I had no problem trying, and wanted to kick myself for not thinking of it first. I took a deep breath and laid my hands over my torn up leg; didn't even have to look to do that. I concentrated, went deep within myself, and pulled up… "Nothing," I said frowning. "It's not coming."
"Never mind, child. Forgive an old teacher. It is hard for one to concentrate when one is in such pain." Janelle laid her hands gently upon my leg, barely touching. Just the pleasant sensation of her touch for a moment, then I felt a soft surge of po
wer, a steady humming that at first covered my skin, easing the pain, and then sank down like gentle warmth deeper into the flesh, melting, knitting, making whole. It wasn't a fast process like the explosive healing burst of power that came with my orgasmic release. It was a slow, steady streaming of gentle power. I felt a warmth, a tiny vibration in my flesh as she worked, oh, so patiently, her hands relaxed and still, her face serene and kind as a healer should be. Just being in her presence was an easing balm. Only the faint moisture that dewed her lip and dampened her brow betrayed the effort it cost her.
She removed her hands and my flesh was whole, my skin unmarred. A residual warmth remained for a moment in my healed tissues like a lingering essence of her, then it was gone.
"I wish I could do that," I said with wonder in my voice.
The healer smiled. "I will teach you. Now, where else are you hurt?"
Chapter Eight
The surprises weren't over yet, I found, when I walked downstairs a short time later and felt a distinctive presence before I saw her.
"Mona Carlisse," I exclaimed. I'd rescued her from a band of outlaw rogues, the same ones that had captured me. Beside her sat her daughter, a little girl with gold spun hair and sea blue eyes so like Amber, her half brother, who had settled his large presence in the far corner by a windowsill.
"And Casio. What a pleasure it is to see you again," I said, smiling. The neat and clean, beautiful child looked so different from the wild creature I'd first met in the forest.
Mona Carlisse stood up nervously and bent her head in greeting. "Mona Lisa. Forgive us for coming uninvited."
"Not at all. You are always welcome here."
Some of the stiffness left her at my warm greeting and she introduced the two men who had also stood when she had risen. "These are my guards. Miguel…"
He was a dark-haired, mustached man, trim and dapper, about my height, not much taller than his Queen. Though his soft dark eyes shone with warmth, and his mouth curved with easy charm, I sensed some tenseness, some constraint in him as he bowed.
"And this is Gerald."
The other guard, more serious in mien, also bowed in greeting. There was an uneasiness in him as well. He was taller, with sand-colored hair and watchful hazel eyes, broad-shouldered but slender. From the feel of his presence, I would have pegged him as the younger of the two, but I could have been wrong. Age did not always correspond with strength, I'd found.
"It is actually I who brought them along," Healer Janelle said. "It was too good an opportunity to allow to pass. I wanted Casio present, if I was to spend time teaching you the healing arts. I wished to use the opportunity to begin instructing her as well."
"Casio?" I said.
"She has the gift within her for healing, I discovered," Janelle said.
"How wonderful." I smiled at Casio, then wrinkled my nose at the shy child. "Although you will probably learn quicker than I."
Casio hid her face against her mother's side, but not before I caught a glimpse of a smile.
Tomas and Dontaine were also in the room. "Tomas, where are the others?" I asked.
"As you were indisposed, Lord Gryphon, Chami, Aquila, and Thaddeus accompanied Steward Horace on a tour of your holdings, after which the good steward will be leaving."
I nodded my approval. Sooner seen, sooner gone. "Thaddeus went with them?"
"More the other way around," Tomas answered, his sweet plain face twisting wryly. "The others are accompanying Thaddeus and Aquila. Those two seem the most comfortable with matters of business."
Another area in which age did not correspond with expertise. Thaddeus, though young of age, was not tender. He seemed more confident in the affairs of commerce than I.
"Did Jamie and Tersa also go with them?" I asked.
Tomas glanced briefly at Halcyon, sitting alone in a chair, a flickering gaze that danced quickly away. "They are helping their mother in the kitchen."
I frowned, wondering if they were uncomfortable in the presence of strangers, then let the thought go as Dontaine stepped forward and knelt before me. Tall, fair, and dazzlingly handsome, he was a forceful presence, especially when compared to Mona Carlisse's two guards—much more striking in looks and strength. "My Queen. I wished to thank you for your care before I took my leave," Dontaine said.
"I did nothing," I said, speaking the unfortunate truth. "You healed yourself."
"You were… kind when you need not be." A hint of sadness lurked in his moss-green eyes. Gone was the cockiness, the eager challenge. He was dimmed a bit without it, somehow. I hadn't realized what a large part of him that confident arrogance had been, or that I would miss it now that it was gone. He stood and turned to go.
Mona Carlisse's presence reminded me of what I had once advised her about men. Sometimes you just had to trust them. You would know soon enough whether your judgment had been correct.
I called his name. "Dontaine."
He stopped and faced me once more.
"What position did you hold? As a guard," I clarified quickly when I realized it could be taken in another manner. Like in Mona Louisa's bed.
"I was second-in-command to the Master of Arms."
"And the Master of Arms? Where is he?"
"He departed with Mona Louisa," Dontaine replied.
"I see." A quiet pause. "Then I would ask that you take up the vacated position."
"Me?" He looked to Amber, dazzled, confused. "But I lost the challenge."
"You did not need to challenge for the position. I would have likely made the appointment in light of your experience, had I known."
"But I lost," Dontaine repeated like a broken record stuck in a groove.
I sighed and turned to the man who had defeated him. "Amber, do you wish to be Master of Arms?"
"No. I have the position I desire." Amber's eyes heated and warmed, making me blush. Making it clear that the position he held and was so very pleased with was in my bed.
"See?" I said, turning my attention back to Dontaine. "I'm going to give you enough rope to either hang yourself or prove yourself to me. You have the position on a tentative two-month trial period. You know the needs of this territory and the men here. Organize them as you will, but out of courtesy, I would appreciate it if you kept Lords Amber and Gryphon and me appraised of all matters." My eyes narrowed. "I want things changed, Dontaine. No more fights or challenges, understand? All advancement will be made upon merit of strength, on experience and skill. You are going to set new rules and implement the changes. I cannot afford to waste anymore time having my men fighting amongst themselves, especially when we're short a healer. Are you up to the challenge?" Mentally I rolled my eyes as I heard myself. I couldn't believe I was starting to talk like a Queen.
Dontaine snapped to attention, his eyes sparkling with wonderment and a return of his eager, passionate spirit. Cocky confidence rang once more in his voice. "Yes, my Queen."
"Good," I said, happy to see some of his natural irritating manner restored. "We'll see how comfortable the fit is to us both two months from now."
"Yes, milady… and thank you." He bowed low and left.
My first new act as Queen. I searched out Amber's eyes and was rewarded with his approval.
"It is a good decision," he said quietly.
"God, I hope so." I really, really hoped so.
Rosemary had taken over the role of chatelaine of the entire house, not just of the kitchen, God bless her capable soul. Under her guidance, the mess we'd made in the downstairs guestroom had been miraculously cleaned up. Fresh air wafted in through the open French windows and the sweet perfume of roses drifted up from the sprawling English gardens below. Dontaine's blood had been washed from the walls and scrubbed from the carpet. I'd have to ask Rosemary how she had accomplished that amazing feat. She'd obviously had more years of experience cleaning up blood than I had. I was just more experienced in spilling it.
"Will this be okay?" I asked Halcyon, gesturing to the room. Rosemary had suggested that Pr
ince Halcyon stay down here. Janelle, Mona Carlisse, and her small entourage took up the remaining guest rooms upstairs. Full house now.
"This will be fine," Halcyon said. He'd been unusually quiet and reserved. We were the only ones in the room, although I was sure Amber was keeping an ear open and tuned to all that we said. But at least Amber had the courtesy to give us a semblance of privacy. Had Gryphon been here, we would not have been alone. The one single person in the world who seemed to trigger Gryphon's jealousy was Prince Halcyon. All other men, he seemed eager enough to throw me at or on, as long as they had a smidgeon of talent they could pass on.
"I'm sorry the room is so small," I said inadequately, stuffing my hands in my jeans. "But at least it has a private bath."
"This more than suits my needs," Halcyon assured me, as polite as I was, making me wonder what we were doing, dancing around like this. We weren't usually like this, tiptoeing around each other.
"I am glad you are better. May I see your leg?" he asked, kneeling before me in a fluid movement.
At my clumsy nod, he carefully lifted the denim cloth, baring my right calf. He behaved himself, no invisible caressing hands or such, but I felt his gaze running like an actual weight over my healed skin. Somehow, baring that small inconsequential bit of my leg felt as if I were exposing other more private parts of my body to him.
"Does it still hurt?" Halcyon asked softly.
"No." Gently I stepped back out of his reach, and the denim slid down to cover me once again. "Uh, thanks for bringing Healer Janelle here so quickly."
"I am happy to be of service." He stood gracefully, his dark brown eyes unreadable. "Perhaps now that you are well, I should go."
"You hate the room," I said, distressed.
He gave a tiny hint of a smile. It flickered for a moment like a shy moth then disappeared. "No, but you seem nervous of me." His voice lowered, roughened. "You have no need to fear me, ever."
