Everlasting Enchantment (7 page)

Nell sat with a wince, her knobby hand rubbing the small of her back. “Crikey, did ye say comfort? I’d give a sweet shilling to get off this hard sand and away from the little gnats that live in it. And what’s that ye got in yer hands?” The nostrils of her beaked nose flared.

Gareth set his offering before her and cracked open the round top, exposing fleshy meat. “I don’t know what it’s called, Lady Nell, but when cooked it tastes like lobster.”

Nell smiled at his use of the honorific, and without further ado, dug into the food, pulling out strings of moist meat and popping them into her mouth.

Millicent’s own mouth watered. While her were-cat preferred raw meat, the food smelled heavenly to her human nose. “How did you manage a fire?”

When he took a step toward her and she quickly backed up, he stopped and frowned. “I didn’t need one. That small pool cooks these to perfection.”

“Of course. Well, it’s nice of you to bring Nell some food, but I can take care of her myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t, my lady. I just thought you’d be too tired to hunt this morning, and sought to make things easier for you.”

Nell’s sharp eyes flew back and forth between the two of them while she continued to munch.

“I don’t need anyone to make my life easy. I don’t need to get soft.” Millicent spoke her next words slowly, as if to a simpleton. “I don’t need you.”

“Nay, I fear you don’t. But I can’t say the same.”

“Dammit, I’m not the one, I tell you. Can’t you get that through that thick skull of yours?”

They stared at each other, the very air seeming to crackle between them. Millicent felt peculiar, though. Oh, she was mad at his stubbornness, right enough, but her anger made the beast within her shiver with sultry heat. What madness had overcome her cat?

Nell set down her shell of food, gave a satisfied burp, and leaned back. “Millicent, if this here lad can follow us, the duke’s men can as well.”

“He didn’t follow us.” She held out her arm and pointed at the band of silver circling it. “He comes out of here. No matter how far I go, I can’t get away from him.”

Nell rose unsteadily to her feet, a few bones creaking with the effort, and took her arm, studying the jeweled bracelet. “This is the relic ye spoke of before. And it’s tied to this lad? I think it’s past time ye told me what the duke had ye up to, my gel.”

Millicent took a deep breath and told the entire story, while the trees continued their gentle sighing and the fans above pretended to cool the air. By the time she’d finished, sweat trickled down her legs and within the valley of her breasts.

Gareth watched her with a half smile, looking cool and comfortable in nothing but his linen drawers.

Nell turned to study him and suddenly he didn’t look as composed. “Well, lad, I must say the relic picked the wrong gel. Me Millicent won’t have nuthin’ to do with ye, despite that sinful smile of yers and that sleek, muscled body. Now me, on the other hand…” She cackled at his blush.

“It isn’t funny, Nell,” snapped Millicent.

Her eyes narrowed as she nodded. “No, my gel, it ain’t. And I’ll spend some thought on how to help ye out of this, to be sure. Seein’ as it’s my fault and all.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Ye wouldn’t have done it if Ghoulston hadn’t used me against ye.”

Millicent shook her head, damp strands of hair brushing her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter, now. What’s done is done.”

Nell nodded and straightened her shoulders. “Well, at least ye look and talk like a lady now.” She turned to Gareth. “Now then, lad. While we consider a way out of this mess, I’m not opposed to a bit of comfort meself, and I seem to remember ye mentionin’ that word. Do what ye will, Millicent, but I don’t like livin’ rough.”

The knight gave her an elegant bow. “It’s humble, Lady Nell, but I will be happy to take you there.” He strode forward and swept her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing more than a stone. The old woman wrapped her arms securely about his neck and gave Millicent a wink over his shoulder as he carried her away.

“Drat it, Nell,” Millicent muttered as she followed them. Her sweaty skirts tripped her up and she cursed the duke and his fancy clothing and shifted to panther, her fur not much cooler, but at least she could move with ease.

When they reached the cave, Nell crowed over her soft bed, which looked to be made of shredded plant fibers, and settled back with a sigh. She looked so much more at ease in the cooler, dryer air that Millicent didn’t have the heart to protest about their new lodgings. But she didn’t have to eat the food he provided.

She spun and slunk back into the forest, looking for the hard-shelled creatures he’d cooked for Nell. Millicent caught several of them, breaking them open with her strong jaws, worrying out the meat inside. But her prey had arms that ended in strong, jagged claws, and after being pinched on the lip more than once, she decided her belly was full enough.

And she didn’t trust the knight to protect Nell as well as she could.

So she returned to the cave and ducked inside to check on her friend. Gareth sat on one of his stools, twisting together tough strands of thin, long leaves to form a sort of net. Several empty shells sat on the table in front of him, and Nell snored loud enough to make them tremble.

“There’s spears, of a sort, back in the corner,” he said with a glance up at her. “Jab the creatures in the soft part between the shell to capture them. I haven’t seen any cool springs to net fish, but when I return, I shall look. In the meantime, you can use this to bag your prey.” He held up the sturdy-looking net.

Millicent flicked her tail and gave him a look.

“Your lip is bleeding,” he said. “And so are several other places on your paws. I just thought it might be easier to hunt in human form. With a spear, you don’t get close enough for them to pinch you with their claws.”

He made a good point. She turned in a circle until she found a comfortable position and sat, licking the wound on her right paw. Those claws bit deep.

When she looked up again, he had disappeared.

Millicent should have realized that the relic would take him soon. The work he’d done to make the cave a home must have taken many hours.

“So the magic man is gone, eh?”

Millicent shifted to human and turned. “Magic man?”

Nell sat up and nodded her head. “In more ways ’n one, I suspect.” She sniffed and then grimaced. “I stink.”

Millicent’s lip quirked. Leave it to Nell to get to the important things first. “There’s a pool not too far from here where the water is but warm.”

“As opposed to boiling our skin off, I suppose.” Nell rose and hobbled over to the entrance of the cave. “Although that might not be so bad. Ye know, the bastard never gave me enough water to bathe. That was worse’n the food he gave me.”

A haze of red covered Millicent’s eyes and she tamped down the fury of her cat. It took her a few moments to speak again. “Can you walk, Nell? It isn’t far.”

“Course I can. Blast, I ain’t no hothouse flower. Whichaway?”

Millicent led her down the path and through the trees to the spot she’d found when hunting. A large pool spread out and disappeared beneath an overhang of rock, only a few lazy wisps of vapor rising from the surface of the water. She helped Nell up the pitted rock sides that surrounded it, and they both slid in with all their clothes on.

They soaked for a time, just enjoying the feel of the warm water. The flowers Gareth had picked for their table grew around the pool, their pearly light dampening some of the colorful emerald glow of the surrounding forest. Unlike Gareth, Nell didn’t look one whit attractive with green-hued skin, and that red hair had combined with the emerald to make a muddy shade of yellow.

They helped each other undress and then washed their clothes as best they could, pounding and ringing the dirt from the fabric. Millicent slammed the creaky corset the duke had given her especially hard against the rocks, unconcerned about the silken sheen, only determined to make it a bit more flexible.

She envied Nell’s timeworn corset. There was an advantage to wearing cast-off clothing.

“How long we got until they find us?” asked Nell as they spread their clothing along the rock to dry as best as it could in the humid air.

“Maybe never. We’re deep into the wilds of the Underground.”

“Ach, my gel. Ghoulston won’t stop looking as long as ye wear that.”

Millicent scowled at the bracelet on her wrist. The moonstone imbedded in it winked mockingly back at her. “I should have at least a few days to figure a way to get it off.”

Nell shrugged, a myriad of wrinkles appearing with the movement. “The knight ain’t so bad, though. I could think of worse fates than bedding such a looker.”

“Not me.”

Those violet eyes studied her with unblinking intensity. “Ye won’t wind up like yer mum, Millie.”

“Hmph. You can’t know that. Once I’ve crossed that line, there’s no going back.”

“Giving up yer virginity don’t make ye a whore.”

“Are you suggesting—”

“I ain’t doing no such thing. I jest see the way ye look at him, and I don’t want ye blaming yerself if ye can’t resist him.”

Millicent climbed out of the pool. “Which would make me no better than my mother.” She swished the water off her skin with the palms of her hands. The forest didn’t seem as hot now, after her soak, but she eyed her clothes with a frown. She couldn’t put all that back on, especially if she wanted to hunt in human form.

Nell struggled into her corset, turning her back so Millicent could help her tighten the laces.

“I knew ye wouldn’t listen,” she grunted as Millicent yanked the ties. “But I think he’s a nice lad, cursed or not. Ye could do worse in a mate.”

Millicent stifled her frustration. “So let’s say I can’t resist his charms. Poof! He goes back into the relic and I never see him again. Enough, Nell. I’ll handle it my way.”

While her friend put on a thin, worn petticoat and her loose cotton dress, Millicent eyed her clothing with a scowl. She picked up a petticoat that could have served as a skirt with the quality of the fabric and began to tear out the horsehair lining that stiffened the hem. With just her chemise, corset, the petticoat, and corset cover, she’d be garbed well enough, by Underground standards.

They made their way back to the cave through glowing colors. After being in this place, the Underground would appear even more dank and gray.

“Nell?”

“Yes, luv.”

“Do you think I won’t be able to shift when I get as old as you?”

Nell looked up at her with a grimace. “Despite the red still in my hair, I’m very,
very
old, Mill.” The trees swayed and the fans swished above them. She sighed. “I’m not sure.”

Millicent nodded. “But it’s possible.”

“Oh, my gel, in my experience, anything is possible.”

She was waiting for him when the relic spat him forth again. Gareth studied her with appreciation while he collected his wits, which always seemed a bit scattered when he materialized from a smoky haze to solid form. She’d discarded half her clothing and looked the cooler for it. Fashions had changed over the centuries, and although he admired the gowns that made women look like delicate flowers, they had to be uncomfortable to wear. And deuced difficult to get them out of.

“I want you to teach me how to fight.”

She shouldn’t be able to surprise him. He’d known thousands of women. But this one always managed to do so. “I am at your service, my lady. But it seems that your cat knows how to use her claws.”

She shook her head, tangles of midnight hair sweeping her shoulders. “No. I want you to teach my human form how to fight.”

Gareth started to shed his clothes. This place might be beautiful, but the heat and humidity reminded him of the jungles of Mogow. He remembered their conversation about Nell being unable to shift to firebird at will, and thought he knew why Millicent had made the request. His lady did not want to have to rely upon anyone’s protection.

Now, or in the future.

He allowed his admiration for her to show in his eyes as he removed the last of his upper clothing.

“We’ll start with staffs,
then
I might let you work with my sword.”

She nodded as if she understood the importance he placed on his weapon.

A cackle of laughter from the depths of the cave made him realize Nell had taken a double meaning from his words. He turned and bowed to the old woman, strode over to the pallet of brush she lay upon, and took her hand. “How do you fare, my ladybird?”

“Ladybird—eh, ye’re a smooth one,” murmured Nell. “My poor gel has no chance against ye at all, does she?”

“It is my fervent desire that she does not.”

“Hmph.” She raised her voice. “Off with the two of ye, then. It’s not my idea of fun to watch two grown people whack each other senseless.”

The old woman confused him. She seemed to be sure of his failure, while at the same time aiding his cause. As if she could no more make up her mind to it than Millicent. He still felt in awe of the small woman, and the firebird she could become. He would have honored her wishes to stay away from Millicent if she had insisted.

But she did not.

Gareth bowed to her and took his leave, following the relic-holder from the cave, watching the sway of her hips with appreciation. Perhaps he might not have been able to stay away from his lady even if the firebird had insisted.

Millicent stopped at a smooth clearing of sand. He saw the strokes of a branch across the grains and realized she’d prepared this place in advance. Perhaps she was
too
keenly aware that he could deny her nothing.

She picked up two sturdy branches, and he recognized the spears he had made. Millicent tossed him one and held her own upright in front of her. Gareth shook his head.

“Hold it horizontal across your body, like so.” He stepped forward and took her hands, positioning the weapon correctly. It always shocked him when he touched her. A sort of shiver through his blood. “Staff work is different than real swordplay, but you must learn this first.”

She allowed him to touch her without pulling away. So, there would be an advantage to this after all. He’d never met a woman so unused to being touched, and his hopes soared that sparring with him would enable her to become accustomed to it.

If he managed to survive the day, that is. More concerned about harming her than protecting himself, she managed to bruise him more than once.

“You retain the speed and strength of your were-cat,” he panted after several hours of tutelage. “This gives you the advantage over me.”

“But not much,” said Millicent, scowling. “Not enough to beat you.” The thin skirt she wore stuck to her body with the sweat from their exertions, outlining the long length of her legs. When she turned to set down her spear, he swallowed at the sight she afforded him.

“You can’t expect to learn so much in a day, my lady. Remember, I’ve had centuries of experience.”

Millicent turned and collapsed on the sand, still breathing hard from their bout. She sat with her arms around her knees, staring off into the forest, her eyes following the movements of the multicolored mist that danced and wove through the trees.

Gareth sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder, pleased when she didn’t immediately pull away from him. The lady made such small allowances seem like a great gift. He flexed his arms, enjoying the loose feel of his muscles. It had been too long since he’d had a challenging fight. True battle left him angry and sad, but a session of strength and skill always relaxed his mind and body.

Millicent appeared to be feeling the same quiet contentment, for they sat a time in silence, listening to the soughing of the branches in the wind.

“How long do you plan on staying here?” asked Gareth, his voice low, hesitant to destroy the peaceful feeling between them.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to catch an errant breeze. “Long enough for Nell to recover her strength. Shape-shifters don’t take well to confinement.”

He admired the smooth curve of her throat, the outline of her full lips. “And then?”

“And then we travel deeper into the Underground until I find a way to get this relic off my wrist.”

Stubborn wench. He’d already told her there was only one way to remove it.

“There
must
be another way,” she continued as if she’d read his mind. “Tell me exactly how you got trapped in the stone.”

Gareth sighed. He would do anything to convince her he spoke the truth. “I seduced Merlin’s lover.”

Millicent huffed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I was young and foolish,” replied Gareth defensively. “And I thought I was in love. Those are the only excuses I can offer, lady.” The colorful glow of the forest faded as his vision turned inward. He still remembered every detail of that day. The feel of triumph when Vivian surrendered to him. The look of betrayal on Merlin’s face when he’d found them together. “Merlin wove a spell that shivered the stones of Camelot. I could almost see the magic he called, forming in his palms, twining about my body. I remember struggling into my clothes, telling him I loved her, worried I’d have to draw my sword against the king’s advisor. “’Twas bad enough I had broken faith with Merlin, but I didn’t want to be forced to do so with my king.”

She stared at him with ever-widening eyes, as if she couldn’t quite believe his world had once existed. But when she spoke, her voice sounded no louder than the sigh of the wind, tinged with awe and sympathy. “What did Merlin say to you?”

“He said, ‘Only true love will break this spell, boy, and I curse you to search until you find it.’ And then I fractured into a thousand pieces, and knew despair when I later materialized to Vivian from out of the relic, and she could not break the spell.”

“Merlin said nothing more specific?”

“No. Why should he? He intended for me to suffer for my betrayal. He did not want to make breaking the curse easy.”

Millicent frowned. “So. You began to search for your true love.”

“Yes. I had to learn to become intimate with a woman quickly, to sense her desires and longings, to discover if she could truly love me. If she might be the woman who could break the spell, for I long for nothing more than to be free.”

“I understand. My were-cat values freedom more than life itself.”

Gareth brushed her shoulder. He believed her. It felt good to be understood, if only a little. And it felt good just to be with this woman, to talk and share their minds if not their bodies. The thought startled him, for he had never experienced such a feeling before.

He changed the subject, suddenly eager to know more about Millicent’s own life. He wished to understand what might have shaped this fascinating woman at his side. “If you do not return home soon, won’t your family and friends wonder what’s become of you?”

A lizard-like creature scurried across the sand toward Millicent, and Gareth redirected its path with a nudge of his boot, not knowing if it might be poisonous or not. He’d yet to find anything in the forest that would harm his lady, but he would take no chances.

The corner of her mouth twitched. “I have no family, and Nell is my only friend. I suppose Bran might wonder what happened to me. He won’t easily find a replacement.”

Gareth felt a prick of jealousy. Alas, it had been long and long since he’d felt that particular emotion. “Who is this Bran?”

She lowered her head and looked at him. “He’s the tavern owner of the Swill and Seelie. Where I work.”

“And what do you do in this place?”

Her golden eyes danced. “I wipe tables, serve ale, and between Bran and me, keep the patrons from dismembering one another.”

She laughed at the look on his face.

“It’s the favorite pub for my kind, and our animal-natures don’t always mix well. Fortunately, I’m one of only a few predators in the Underground, and most don’t want to tangle with me. It’s why Bran hired me. A were-bear likes it peaceful.”

Gareth found himself smiling with her. “Bran shape-shifts to bear?”

“Mmm. He likes honey and scratches his back on door frames and speaks slowly.” Her smile faded. “Yes, I suppose he just might wonder what happened to me.”

Gareth noticed she didn’t say this Bran might care about her. His tone became low and coaxing, unsure of how far to push her confidences. “What became of your family?”

For a moment he feared she wouldn’t answer. Her expression became guarded and wary. But she deigned to reply, and in that moment, he knew she’d decided to finally trust him.

“I don’t know who my father is. And my mother died when I was little.” She took a deep breath, as if afraid that her voice would falter on her next words. “My mother had been used poorly, by one man after another. Men like to torment a beast, you see. Or enrage it.”

Gareth had met many men with twisted desires. He had yet to understand it. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

She looked genuinely confused. “For what?”

“That your life has taught you to care for so few.”

Millicent smiled widely at him, exposing the long canines at the corners of her mouth. “Ah, but Sir Gareth. Don’t you see there’s freedom in that?”

His name on her lips sounded as sweet as wine, and for the first time, he understood her nature. She seemed to read that understanding in his eyes and accept it.

He had wanted this woman before. Now it became a burning desire. “There’s freedom in loving too, my lady. Won’t you allow me to show you?”

She froze and the air became charged between them. Gareth leaned forward to face her, moving slowly, not wanting to frighten either the lady or her beast. But there was no fear in her eyes when he locked gazes with her, just confusion and doubt.

“It’s true,” he assured her, leaning closer, his lips but a breath away from her own. “Freedom… and joy.” He tilted his head and pressed his mouth against hers. She tasted salty sweet and unlike any other woman he had known before. Her lips felt warm and soft—but completely still, as if she feared to move.

Gareth pulled slightly away from her, studying the sweep of her brow, the cat-shape of her eyes, the golden depths within. “Breathe, my lady.”

She let loose her breath with a gasp, and he tilted his head farther and leaned in, taking advantage of her parted lips. This time her lips stirred beneath his, mimicking his own moves with shy hesitancy. When he opened his mouth farther, she did as well. When he dipped his tongue inside, she touched her own to his, a slow dance of wet heat that grew to feverish intensity. He felt a vibration and realized she’d started to purr, a low sound in the back of her throat.

Gareth’s body responded with a rush of blood to his groin. But he reined in his desire, grateful that centuries of experience granted him such control. An ordinary man would never have managed it. He allowed her to leisurely explore his mouth, guiding her with a gentle touch whenever she faltered, letting her discover the exquisite joy within a kiss.

Every nerve of his felt afire, and he dug his fingers into the sand to prevent them from touching her. He longed to feel her body against his, to touch every curve he’d admired from a distance. But he couldn’t push. Gareth must give her time to adjust—

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her strength still astonishing him, and she crushed his body against hers, her purr interrupted by a growl as she flipped him over onto his back and lay half atop him, continuing to ravish his mouth. Gareth sighed with relief, brushing the sand off his palms before wrapping them around her hips and positioning her fully atop his body. He explored the curves of her back while she tangled her fingers in his hair. He covered her buttocks with his hands while she sucked on his lower lip.

She wiggled atop him, unaware of the torture she caused. Or so he thought. For suddenly she jerked her head back, blinking down at him with passion-glazed eyes, a shock of realization blooming within their depths.

Gareth brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek. He knew she’d felt his need for her. “Don’t let it frighten you.”

Millicent spun away from him, coming to a crouch on all fours.

He slowly rose to a sitting position, ruffling the sand from his hair. He pretended that naught of significance had passed between them, seeking to maintain that air of camaraderie they’d shared earlier, hoping to assuage her fears. But her kiss had shaken him to the core. What had started out as only a means to seduce her had turned into something… larger. Something he did not understand. How had her kiss managed to make him feel… somehow… complete? How could it make the world spin, when he had gone through the same motions with thousands of other women with nary a twist of his senses? “I’m going to bathe. Do you wish to join me?”

She leaned toward him as if to comply, passion still shimmering in her eyes. One hand lifted to touch her swollen lips. “How can you—aah, you’re a slick one. If I didn’t know you had another reason for seducing me, I might even be able to believe in the tenderness you’ve shown me.”