Serpent's Kiss

by Thea Harrison

  “I think so. I hope so. It is the first time I have had a choice about it.” Carling widened her eyes, tilted her head and lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

  The gesture was so very like the serious, innocent child Khepri, without warning he tumbled head over heels in love with her again. He saw the child she had been, this young, proud beauty, and the amazing woman she would become, and he loved all of them, all of the Carlings past, present and future. He saw her sharpness, her frailties and her strength, and his soul embraced all of it. The feeling was a sword thrust as deep as anything he had ever felt, piercing through his body. It seemed like he had been falling for a very long while, and each time he realized it, he had fallen a little deeper, a little further. He had never known that falling in love could be as helpless and complete as this.

  Then just as suddenly, he fell into a panic and he started to shake. It was not simple or quiet trembling, but a violent storm that took him over and rattled his bones. He was really back in time. Really. Back in time. This was not his Carling, not yet. He was not supposed to be here. Another, younger Rune was living his oblivious life in another part of this world.

  He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t protect her, this heart-stoppingly beautiful, fragile, brave human girl. And just by being here, he might have changed history again. He might be changing her even now, so that she made some other kind of choice than she originally did, some kind of new and different choice that got her killed.

  Carling—his wise and wicked Carling—might have been able to accept the consequences of that, but he never could.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders again and hauled her against him, and growled into her gorgeous, unbearably naive, incredulous face, “You listen to me. I am not supposed to be here. It is incredibly dangerous for me to even be talking to you.”

  Carling’s expression flared. She gripped his wrists. “Why do you say that?”

  “I am not from this time or this place. I am from somewhere else.” He could see she did not understand. How could she possibly understand? He struggled to find words that would have meaning for her and still convey the urgency of his message. He said with slow emphasis, “I am from many human lifetimes away, from so far in your future of tomorrows that the pharaoh no longer exists. Where I come from, all the gods have changed, and everything you see around us is either rubble or has completely disappeared.”

  The wonder in her face was replaced by white shock. “It’s all gone?”

  “Gone.” He got a grim sense of satisfaction from the sharp, sober attention she now gave him. He grabbed her head, his shaking hands cupping the graceful arc of her skull as his thumbs braced under her delicate, stubborn chin, holding her so tightly she could not deny him or turn away. He spoke from the back of his throat, words that were so raw they came from the place where the sword had thrust through him. They fell from his mouth, hissing through the air like dripping acid. “Doorways have been opening in time. I have been falling through them and traveling to your place. In the future, you and I are searching for a way to close them, because they are very dangerous. Other things, dark spirits or creatures that mean you harm, might come through those doorways. That’s why we decided I had to come back to warn you. You must take care and learn to guard yourself. There are times, like this night, when you are not safe.”

  She trembled all over, that beautiful young tigerish woman, and her breath shook out of her, and he felt like such a rotten, stupid bastard to put the burden of all of this on her young shoulders. But then wonder came into her face. “You and I are working together in this future place?”

  He tried to think of what would be the best thing to say, but he couldn’t because he was in a blind panic, the likes of which he had never before experienced. He said, “Yes. You hold my life in your hands just as surely as I am holding yours now in mine. There is a way for you to live to reach that distant future. You must find it. Do not turn away, or give up, or let anyone take that away from you. You must live. Do you understand me? You must live or I will die.”

  Her mouth shook as she whispered, “You would be there waiting for me?”

  He was doing everything wrong. He was only supposed to warn her to be careful. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. But he couldn’t stop himself. He whispered, “I will not remember you at first. You will live through your life and meet a younger me, one who has not yet come back to this place to meet you. Then I will see you at twilight, by a river in a place called Adriyel, and I will start my journey toward you.”

  She studied his face, her forehead crinkled. “But you will remember me some time?”

  This is crazy, he thought. It makes no sense. The time slippage is so far out of sync it is working in loops, like a serpent’s coils. She and I are drawing each other into existence. If we don’t find our way out of this, we may not survive.

  He had no cunning for this, no grand plan or intelligent rationale, no established ethical protocol for time travel like out of a sci-fi movie. This was just raw, unvarnished truth, and deadly uncharted territory for how it might carve through history.

  And because he had gone much too far to stop now, he gave her everything he had.

  He put his lips to her forehead and said against her skin, “I will remember you, very soon after the Adriyel River. And when I do, you will come to mean everything to me. Who I am at this moment, this man who is standing in front of you—I would wait forever for you. But you must live to get there or none of this will happen.”

  She reached to touch the place where his lips met her skin, murmuring, “It always happens by the river.”

  He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to those gentle, questing fingers. “What does?”

  “The beginning of a new life.” She pulled back to look at him, and the expression in hers was grave. “If there is a way for me to live to get there, I will find it.”

  “There is,” he said, pushing all of his conviction into the two words. “You found it once. You got there already. But now I have come back and touched your life again, and every time I do that something else changes, and I am afraid—” His throat closed and for a moment he could not continue. “I am so goddamn afraid that by coming tonight I might have changed something else you do or decide, and you won’t be there in my life when I go back. And I have to go back, because I don’t belong here.”

  Her trembling stopped. She stood steady and straight under his hands, her Power a slim, newly minted, adamant flame. She repeated, “If there is a way for me to live to get there, I will find it.”

  He took a deep breath as he searched her gaze, and the tiger looked back at him, unafraid. Another realization jolted through him, and even as he spoke he knew that the words he said were true.

  “This is not all on you. Everything that has happened to me, I have remembered,” said the gryphon. “I have held my place and my identity as time and space have flowed around me. The past has shifted twice for us already, and I remember all of it. If you fail somehow—if you die—I swear I will look for a way to walk through time again to find you. No matter where you are. No matter when. I swear it.”

  He should have known. The joy that filled her face had a keen ferocity that would propel her forward through the centuries. Gods, what passion this mortal had. It filled the chalice of her heart to overflowing.

  He thought of his Carling, sitting unprotected in the hotel suite. Time was flowing for her as well. “I have to leave,” he said abruptly. “You must take shelter. Go inside. Do not sleep. Do everything you can to protect yourself. This night, for you, is a dangerous one.”

  She looked around in sharp, quick assessment and gave him a firm nod. “I will take care. It will be all right.”

  This young woman wasn’t his Carling. If Rune and this young woman had the luxury of unlimited time together, realistically he wasn’t even sure if they could find anything much to talk about for any length of time. But he still could not resist cupping her soft cheek. “I will treasure the memory of
meeting you like this,” he said, and he kissed her.

  Carling stood frozen and focused everything she had on the touch of his mouth on hers, so fierce yet tender, and filled with the blaze of his Power. It was the first time anyone had ever touched her like that. She knew she would never allow that elderly petty king to touch her on the lips. Then Rune let her go and scooped his weapons off the ground, and she watched as he turned on his heel away from her and faded from sight.

  He just faded away, like a dream. Or perhaps a spell-induced vision.

  She fingered her lips. They still tingled even though he was gone.

  You must live or I will die, he had said. And that could not happen, not to the one who held her soul.

  I will treasure the memory of meeting you too, she thought.

  And wait forever for you.

  • • •

  Carling opened her eyes and gazed out the open French doors in the hotel bedroom at the rich heavy gold of the westering sun. Morning might be bright and beautiful, but it did not hold the same poignancy as the evening, that had gathered all the day’s memories and carried them into night.

  She sat on the bed with her legs curled up, her back braced against the headboard. Rune stood at the open doors, facing outside. He leaned a broad shoulder against the frame, his arms crossed. His quiet, strong profile had an uncertain vulnerability she had never seen in him before. He looked proud, self-contained and braced for bad news, a god in black who claimed he was not a god, great and golden-haired and so intensely formed, his life force boiled the air around him.

  He was indeed best seen in the hot bright light of day, where he shone with all the colors of creation’s fire. Copper, yellow, gold, bronze, and the warm fierce amber of those playful, ageless lion’s eyes.

  Yes, that was exactly how she remembered it, both so long ago and again just recently on the island. Her soul, winging out of her body, and flying irrevocably toward him.

  Some instinct told her he knew very well she had come out of the fade. Why wouldn’t he turn to look at her?

  She stared out the window again, and thought. The silence of ages lay heavily between them.

  I will remember you, very soon after the Adriyel River. And when I do, you will come to mean everything to me. Who I am at this moment, this man who is standing in front of you—I would wait forever for you.

  While she was not familiar with the details, she knew that when Wyr mated, they did so only once. Dragos, Lord of the Wyr, had just found his mate. Tiago, Wyr warlord and thunder-bird, had mated with the Dark Fae Queen Niniane. Was that what Rune had meant? Was she that lucky—and he that damned?

  She straightened her spine and took a breath, and began to speak. “You did not change me this time.”

  His head jerked sharply to the side, as if she had struck him, but other than that he did not move and he still would not look at her.

  “I cast a spell one night and had a vision of you. That was my experience of it, anyway,” she said. “I remember you warning me to take care. After that I studied defensive spells, and I put up wards when I slept. I was very careful.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Rune asked coldly.

  She looked down at the fun, flirtatious outfit she wore and gently smoothed the soft material of her top. She kept her voice calm as she told him, “I’m working through what happened, and what might have been different. I remember agreeing that you needed to go back to warn me and I remember taking responsibility for that. I think we got lucky. I think we changed what we needed to change, and everything else stayed stable.”

  Everything she told him was the truth. She would not lie to him. His truthsense would be highly developed, and in case, he deserved better than that. But even as her words told him a kind of truth, her soul whispered a deeper, more heartfelt one.

  After the first few nights, when the blaze of excitement had died down, doubt had crept in. She couldn’t believe he had meant what she thought he had said. She had to have misheard him, or misunderstood. The years passed and gradually turned to centuries, and as she received no other message or sign, she settled into a more mature and balanced “wait and see” attitude. She would not put the entirety of her life on hold for a single spell-induced vision, no matter how vivid or compelling it might have been.

  But she had never forgotten how his kiss had burned. She had never let her petty king of a husband kiss her on the mouth, ever, nor had she allowed that liberty to any of her other lovers. Not that she had taken all that many of them, considering the years of her existence. She had stopped after a few hopeful attempts, because they either fell asleep after sex or they ran away, and it was all so relentlessly banal she would rather have walked unshielded into the sun than have to endure one more meaningless, insipid love affair.

  Now as she looked at his stiff half-averted form, she told him silently, I fell in love with you earlier today in the hotel lobby. And everything you once said has come to pass. But so much time has gone by. Too much time. So many tomorrows, and tomorrows, and tomorrows, that the pharaohs really do no longer exist, and all the gods have changed and everything I once knew has turned to rubble or has completely disappeared. We have come together too late.

  You must live or I will die.

  Now I am the one who is dying, and you cannot mate with me and hope to live. What a Gordian knot we have tied ourselves into.

  And as Alexander the Great had known, the only solution to untangling an unsolvable knot is to slice through it.

  She looked down at the bedspread.

  “So let’s review,” she said. Her voice was under perfect control. “Because of your help, in just a few days I have learned a tremendous amount about my condition, in fact more than I have learned in the last two centuries. And now that Dr. Telemar will soon be here to consult, I am hopeful I will learn even more. I owe you a big debt of gratitude.”

  He had turned to look at her. She could sense it, that tall powerful black-clad figure standing just barely at the edge of her sight. Underneath the cover of one hand, she curled the other into a tight fist.

  “But we both know we can’t risk any more of these strange collisions in time,” Carling continued. “They are too dangerous for either one of us, and God only knows what we might have changed in the rest of the world.” And she knew she could not trust her younger self around him, not for a single moment. If that younger Carling saw him again, she would never be able to contain her joy and she would not know of any reason why she should. “Rune, it’s time for you to back out of this now. You’ve helped me enough. You’ve certainly done far more than anybody could have expected. I want you to go back to your life now.”

  The beast that had taken over Rune studied his prey with a critical eye.

  Her facade could not have been better. She had no pulse for him to gauge, and she would not show him the look in her eyes. Her beautiful body was arranged just so against the pillows on the bed, like a posed still life, all artifice and composition. She was cool, controlled, rational perfection. She appeared to be a completely different creature than the fierce, eager young tiger he had left just moments ago, and why wouldn’t she be a different creature, when that moment was, for her, thousands of years ago?

  But her facade was too perfect, and that was her fatal flaw. She should have been reacting more to what had happened between them this afternoon, all that magnificent crazed passion, their laughter and the moments of real intimacy. The memory of what had happened in the fade should have unfolded naturally, as it had the first couple of times. Instead that was the first thing she offered him, only to coolly negate it.

  Fury swept a firestorm through him. He sprang across the room, knocked her flat and slammed down on top of her. Shock bolted across her expression as he gripped her lovely throat with long, claw-tipped fingers.

  The beast hissed in her face, “You’re such a fucking liar.”

  SIXTEEN

  Carling stared at the monster crouching over her. His face blurred
from the tears that had filled her eyes that she refused to shed. His feral gaze tracked every telltale flicker on her face. He knelt over her prone body, his knees on either side of her hips. His bones were all wrong, in his face, across his wide chest, in the sinewy muscular arms. He looked more lion than eagle in this half shift. She could feel his claws against her jugular as he pinned her by the throat. He had driven the claws of his other hand deep into the mattress beside her head.

  The monster’s powerful body vibrated with violent tension, but while he held her in an unbreakable grip, the heel of his hand pressing down on her collarbone, he hadn’t caused her so much as a paper cut.

  When Tiago had been like this, he had gutted himself for his mate.

  She had done this to Rune. They had done it to each other.

  She stroked his strange, beautiful half-lion face, and he snapped at her. His strong white fangs closed around her hand. He could have crushed every bone in her hand in his powerful jaws, but he held her so gently, those sharp fangs would not have cracked an eggshell.

  “You know very well I’m not lying to you,” she said to him. She had no idea how she kept her voice calm. “We have been on a weird, wonderful journey together. And I am privileged that you chose to stay and experience it with me, but you must leave, Rune.”

  Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, the gryphon whispered in her head. I have not given you the right to send me away.

  I have not given you the right to stay, Carling said, very softly.

  An infuriated growl ripped out of him. With a snap of his head, he gave her hand a quick hard shake in reprimand. Tough shit. I’m not your servant that you can dismiss when things don’t suit you. I’m your lover, Carling.

  “And I’m still dying,” she said. “I promise you that I will fight and look for a cure until the very last moment I can, but the fact remains, I still might die.”

  His gaze was fiercely determined. I get to share this part of the journey with you too. I get to fight for your life too. I get to tell you what I think about it, and how I feel. And if it ever comes to that, I get to hold you at the end and share every last precious moment with you.