Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5)

by Kristen Ashley

Valentine and Lavinia stood silent as Franka remained still and staring at her hands.

  It took time but she eventually lifted her head.

  And Valentine felt the soft curve lift the corners of her mouth as she saw the wonder in her sister’s expression.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked quietly, feeling that same beauty. The beauty she felt any time she called up her craft or was around a sister using hers. The tingle of it on her skin. The warmth of it through her insides. The thrill of it up her spine. The heat of it in her sex. The sumptuous taste of it down her throat. The glorious energy of it in her fingertips.

  Oh, but it was good her companion was waiting for her at the cottage and she had planned what she had planned, as for once she could take these feelings and exalt in them just as she should do, joyously and uninhibitedly.

  “It’s…well, nothing like I’ve ever known,” Franka replied.

  “But beautiful, yes?” Lavinia prompted.

  Franka shook her head and Valentine felt her brows draw together.

  “That isn’t the word,” Franka explained, crossing her arms at her front. Not protectively, she’d curled her hands around her biceps and was stroking them as if she was trying to keep the feeling close, hold it to her, not lose it. “There is no word to describe this beauty,” she finished reverently.

  Valentine relaxed and again smiled.

  “I…” Franka went on and shook her head again, this time shorter, sharper shakes, like she was clearing it, but her gaze was steadfast on Valentine. “I thank you. I…thank you, my sister,” she finished on a heartfelt whisper. “I would not think I’d wish anything from her. Anything that was hers. But…” she swallowed and finished, “you were right. I’ll remember this night always, her end, my beginning.”

  Oh yes, Valentine very much liked this witch.

  Both Valentine and Lavinia approached and all of them again clasped hands.

  “It was my honor,” Valentine shared the truth.

  “And mine to be here,” Lavinia added.

  “I wouldn’t have chosen this, not if you hadn’t advised it,” Franka told Valentine. “And you will have my gratitude for as long as I remain breathing.”

  “It’s most appreciated,” Valentine accepted before she gave her a small smile. “And it’s also cold. We will soon meet again. Your training now commences.”

  It was not blinding, but there was excitement in Franka’s eyes that she didn’t hide.

  Progression.

  Excellent.

  “The sisterhood,” Lavinia said on a tightening of her hand.

  “The sisterhood,” Valentine repeated, doing the same.

  “The sisterhood,” Franka trailed, her hand tightening and her lips twitching.

  Valentine broke away.

  “And now to warmth,” she declared, and warm, firm, naked male bodies with handsome faces, beautiful blue eyes, charming smiles and mouths that could utter sweet words, she did not say.

  “To warmth,” Lavinia agreed. “Until we see you again, farewell, my friend.”

  Valentine nodded to Lavinia and Franka.

  It had been beautiful, as she knew it would be. It had been an honor, as she knew as well. It would be something, like Franka, and she was certain Lavinia, Valentine would never forget.

  But now it was done and time to go home.

  Time to get warm.

  Time to celebrate not only what had just occurred but much more.

  It was time to celebrate and continue to nurture what was growing between her and…

  Not just a body.

  Not a trifle.

  Not her companion.

  With Laurent.

  * * * * *

  Franka

  I was pacing my room, the only illumination the fire that was also providing warmth.

  My feet were bare, but not cold. No, I was far too stimulated to even think of cold feet.

  I should be in bed.

  But the quickening inside had not died down. I felt like I had too much energy. As if I could run around the palace again and again (like Noc did nearly every day for reasons he stated were, “keeping fit,” whyever anyone would do something like that).

  And I was just bursting to tell someone all that had occurred and just how beautiful it was.

  Unable to stop myself, regardless of the fact it was late, I knew in my heart he wouldn’t mind, I dashed to the door, opened it and hastened down the hall to Noc’s room.

  I knocked. Not loudly, I didn’t want anyone to hear.

  Seconds later, I did it a little louder because Noc surely was sleeping and I did want him to hear.

  I was still doing it when the door flew open.

  The firelight was illuminating Noc’s room as well, not to mention the lamplight from the hall.

  And thus I saw quite clearly that he was shirtless, wearing a pair of loose, lightweight trousers with a string tied under his navel to hold them up.

  At the sight of all of it (though I had to admit, my eyes got stuck on his flat stomach, the ridges that defined it, and the trail of thick, black hair that led from his unusual sleeping trousers to his navel), my mouth went dry.

  “Baby, you okay?” Noc asked.

  I jerked my eyes up to his face, saw his hair mussed and fought the urge to lift my hands and smooth it.

  Or muss it further.

  With effort, I stayed focused.

  “The ceremony was tonight.”

  I was standing in the hall and then I was not.

  Noc grabbed my hand, yanked me into his room and closed the door. He didn’t hesitate to guide me straight to the fire to stand in front of it so it could warm us both.

  Once he got us there, he also didn’t hesitate to draw me near to him and say, “I know. That’s why I asked if you’re okay. You look…” his head tipped to the side as his scrutiny on my face intensified, “wired.”

  “Wired?”

  “Jazzed. Hyper. Agitated. Edgy. Alert.”

  I leaned closer to him. “I do think I am all of those, Noc. But in a good way.”

  He continued to study my face. “So it went okay?”

  I nodded fervently. “It was…I was…”

  How to explain the unexplainable?

  There was no way except understanding Noc would listen and do so closely even if I couldn’t find the right words.

  Thus I sallied forth, “I was very anxious. I did not wish to have anything of hers but the word ‘absorb’…” I shook my head. “That concerned me the most. To have her inside me in any way…” I didn’t finish that thought but Noc’s expression told me he understood what I was communicating so I carried on, “But it was…I felt her and…and then it was me, it was what’s inside me…” Again I couldn’t finish so I pulled slightly away, lifted up my hand and whispered, “Here, I’ll show you.”

  I focused on the quickening inside me and that was all I had to do before I felt it surge up my spine, through my frame, tingling in my scalp and fingertips and the blue sparks drifted up lazily from my palm.

  “Gotta say, sweetheart, as freaky as that is, it’s still fuckin’ cool,” Noc muttered, and I looked from my hand to his face, now illuminated in blue, making his eyes even more extraordinary, his gaze riveted to my palm.

  “It sparked red when it happened,” I shared, and he looked to me. “When Valentine gave the magic to me. It was her. It was Mother. I felt her. The ugliness. The darkness. But it was me,” I lifted my hand, the blue still sparking, “that forced her out. Took over. See?” My hand rose another inch. “That’s just me. No red. All blue. It’s all mine. And look, Noc,” my hand rose further but my voice lowered with reverence, “don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

  He only glanced back to my hand before his gaze again caught mine.

  “Yeah, baby,” he whispered. “It’s fuckin’ gorgeous.”

  I smiled at him.

  He smiled back and his attention drifted again to the sparks.

  “Can I touch it?” he as
ked, and instantly I closed my hand and the magic disappeared.

  Noc returned his eyes to me.

  “I don’t know much about it,” I explained hastily as I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or deny him anything he wished to have. “It could be dangerous and I don’t wish to harm you.”

  He nodded. “I get that.”

  I smiled again. “Maybe when I know more, when I know if it’s safe, I’ll conjure it again and you can.”

  Noc smiled again too. “That’d be cool.”

  “I just, well, I just had to share.” I leaned back into him, lifting the hand that had sparked blue and wrapping it around the warm, silken skin covering hardness at his biceps. “It’s impossible to explain. Being out there with Valentine and Lavinia. Being given a gift I didn’t want but the instant I received it I knew how precious it was. Understanding more of who I am, what’s inside me, that there are women who have the same and they’re not like my mother. I don’t have words to describe the magnificence and I know it’s late. I shouldn’t have woken you but I just had to share it with someone. And you know who I am, what I have inside me. Outside of Josette, Valentine and Lavinia, you’re the only one. And I know I can trust you with all of it.”

  “Yeah, you can,” he replied with a smile, but there was a firmness to his tone that I liked very much. This he coupled with resting a hand on the side of my waist and giving me a squeeze. “And seriously pleased you woke me up to share, sweetheart, and totally stoked to hear you dug the experience.”

  I nodded up at him enthusiastically, not sure what “stoked” meant but I did know what “dug” meant thus affirmed, “I did, Noc. I very much did.”

  He looked down at me with an indulgent expression.

  We stood standing close, staring at each other and touching lightly for some time before I realized neither of us was speaking.

  Suddenly feeling awkward, I cast a glance at his disheveled bed, took my hand from his arm and stepped back, forcing Noc’s hand to fall from my waist.

  My eyes to the rug at my side, I stated, “I woke you, now I should let you sleep.”

  “We could go raid the kitchens,” he curiously suggested.

  I looked back to him. “Pardon?”

  “Babe, you don’t look any less wired than you did when you walked in here. That means raid the kitchen, or hitch up a sleigh and go joyriding through Fyngaard, or find ourselves a bottle of whiskey and get slaughtered.”

  I was definitely peckish.

  And I always enjoyed a lovely libation.

  “I choose the first and the last,” I shared.

  To that, Noc’s smile went white and wide, and promptly after he strode from the room into his dressing room. He came back wearing one of his attractive, long-sleeved shirts that had no buttons (and I’d discovered all of them were of an oddly stretchy material).

  He handed me a ball of wool that I realized were a pair of his socks just as he sat on the couch by the fire and pulled his own ball of wool open.

  “Put those on to keep your feet warm,” he ordered.

  He was concerned about my comfort, did something about it, and that something was as intimate as me wearing his clothing.

  There was a loveliness to this I shouldn’t allow myself the opportunity to feel.

  I did not delay even a second in sitting beside Noc to pull his socks on my feet.

  When I had the over-large, warm wool on, he was up and I was too, as he’d grabbed my hand and pulled me that way.

  “Let’s go, sugarlips.”

  I rolled my eyes at his irksome endearment.

  But I said nothing.

  My hand in Noc’s, we went to raid the kitchens and get “slaughtered” on whiskey.

  This we did.

  And I enjoyed every second.

  Better, with delight he did not hide from me for a second, Noc did too.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dr. Zhivago

  Franka

  It was time.

  Weeks I had waited to get on with things—as Noc would say, close the book on my old life and start the first chapter on the new—and it was finally time.

  But now that it was, I didn’t want it to be time.

  This was, I knew, because I was standing at the window of my bedroom looking down at Kristian’s and my sleighs being packed. Ahead of them, more sleighs were being readied to take Finnie and Frey, Cora and Tor, Circe and Lahn…and Noc to Sudvic to start Noc’s adventure.

  We would be parted for months.

  I did not want that.

  Anything could happen in months. Months was a long time.

  He could find a young beautiful maiden in Hawkvale, fall in love, decide to stay in this world. Or he could wish her to live in his own and bring her back with him.

  Or he could think on me and wonder why he was so kind and friendly, supportive and caring, teasing and sweet, and use the time to grow distant so that when we met again, I had none of him at all.

  A knock came at the door and I was so deep in my thoughts, I jumped and turned to it, mouth opening to call to the person beyond to enter.

  My mouth shut and tightened, out of habit mostly, because I needn’t have bothered with the effort of parting my lips.

  The door was already closing behind Noc.

  I watched him saunter to me, grinning. “All the action’s downstairs, sugarlips.”

  “I have seen sleighs packed before, many times, starting from the moment I could cipher,” I reminded him. “It’s hardly fascinating.”

  Noc stopped in front of me and looked down out of my window. “If it’s not interesting,” he said to the window before turning his attention to me, still grinning, “why are you watching it from up here?”

  I stared into his face, his extraordinary eyes, remembering suddenly every moment from that first he’d walked into the sitting room to make me feel better after Minerva and her companions were bested, all of our moments layering, interweaving, making me feel warm…

  And bereft.

  “I fear I’ll miss you,” I whispered and watched his grin die.

  “Frannie,” he whispered back, getting close, putting a hand to my waist and sliding it to the small of my back.

  “You’ve been very kind to me. You…you’ve…” I shook my head and gave him the honest truth, “You’ve changed my life, Noc.” I drew in a swift breath and carried on even more swiftly, “And no matter what comes for both of us, I cannot abide you leaving without telling you how much it means and just how very grateful I am.”

  He lifted his other hand, curling his fingers around the side of my neck as he dipped his head so his handsome face was near.

  “What’s gonna come for both of us is I’m gonna do my thing and you’re gonna have quality time with your family. After that, we’ll meet in NOLA. Then the first thing I’m gonna do after feeding you pizza is get you drunk on hurricanes.”

  I felt confusion at his final word but did it no longer finding it irritating. Weeks with Noc and having this feeling, I’d grown accustomed to it. Not to mention, he had great patience and I enjoyed his frequent amusement when I asked for clarification.

  “There are hurricanes in Fleuridia,” I shared. “They’re so bad, seamen who can sense them and dogs that have been trained to do the same are quite valued, for most people pack their carriages and move far inland to avoid them and the death and destruction they often cause.”

  His eyes lit. “It’s a weather phenomenon, sweetheart. But in my world it’s also a drink that will fuck you up.”

  “I’m assuming your usage of ‘fuck you up’ in this instance is a good thing,” I guessed.

  “Hell yeah,” he confirmed, again with an upward curve to his lips.

  I lifted a hand and put it on his chest. “Then I’ll look forward to that, Noc.”

  I’d barely ceased talking when his hand went from my neck to mine on his chest where he folded it tight in his hold and held it there against the soft wool of his thick sweater.

  “I
want you writing me,” he demanded, and at his demand, I stared.

  “But, you’ll be far and wide. Any missive will—”

  “I don’t care if the news is three months old when I get it,” he interrupted me to say. “I want you writing me and I’ll write you too.”

  Oh.

  We’d correspond.

  How delightful!

  I pressed my hand against his chest. “You have my vow, I will share all the ridiculously boring things that are happening to me as I await the birth of my brother’s child, and you can share with me all you’ve seen, heard, tasted and experienced as you travel the depth of a continent in a parallel universe.”

  This time his eyes flashed with humor.

  “I got a feeling you’ll find ways to liven shit up,” he told me.

  He would be right.

  I would be learning how to use my magic, for one, something he knew as I’d told him.

  But the truth was, I was me. I wasn’t, but I was.

  And I wasn’t about to abide boring.

  “We shall see,” I replied.

  He got even closer to the point our bellies were brushing through our clothes.

  I held my breath.

  He held my hand tighter at his chest.

  “You leave first and you leave soon, baby,” he said quietly, suddenly looking rather splendidly fierce. “I’m gonna walk you down there and I’m gonna give you a hug in front of everybody and I’m gonna act like I feel, which is that this part is gonna suck because I’m gonna miss you too.”

  He was going to miss me.

  Why did that make me feel so much better?

  “I have never been…hugged, in public that is,” I shared.

  Again, his eyes flashed with humor. “Glad I get to break that seal.”

  I felt my brows draw together. “Break that seal?”

  It was then I felt my face freeze as he studied my brow only briefly before he dropped his forehead to mine, and instead of answering my question, he muttered, “Yeah, I’m gonna miss you too.”

  “Noc,” I whispered.

  “You be good,” he ordered.

  Being good would be boring.

  But that was me now. I’d eschewed my wicked ways.

  I had no choice but to “be good.”