Goddess of the Rose (36 page)

He kissed her again before he answered. “Of course. All you need do is to call me to you.”

“And tonight?”

“Command me, Empousa, and I shall obey,” he said, dark eyes shining.

“You say that now, but let's see what you think of obeying my every command in a year or so,” she teased, raising an eyebrow at him cockily, and was surprised to see his look tighten and his eyes lose all their sparkling humor.

“I would never tire of you, or of your commands, Mikado, not if we had an eternity to share together.”

His words pressed heavily on her heart. How had she forgotten that he was an immortal? She would age; he would not. She would die; he would not. No! She wouldn't think about that now, not at the beginning of their love. They deserved time to savor the sweet, heady feeling of new love—in that way they were no different from any other couple. She wouldn't ruin the honeymoon of their love with dire thoughts of a future with her, shrunken and tottering around the gardens, leaning on his perpetually virile arm. Would he let her? Would he still want her then?
Stop it! I'm doing exactly what I just promised I wouldn't.
Mikki made her lips smile.

“I wasn't being serious; I was just kidding you, Asterius. But since you mentioned the whole command thing, I'll be happy to command you to come to me tonight.” She glanced over his shoulder at the cozy cave, as filled with his presence as it was with the exquisite art he created. “Actually, I think I'd rather come to you.”

“I do not believe you received the tour you requested earlier.”

“Well, that's one of the things you'll be doing tonight, but only one . . .”

 

 

 

The light rain changed the appearance of the gardens, washing them with a watercolor brush, turning reality impressionistic. Mikki decided she liked it. It went with the theme of the place—dreamy.

She meant to go straight to the palace and call the Elementals—the poor girls were probably going to be thoroughly pissed at her, especially if any of them had kicked someone scrumptious out of her bed—but she wandered, letting herself get lost in the misty magick of the roses. They felt better this morning. Even as she made her way slowly in a southerly direction, the sickness that had been pulling at her stomach whenever she immersed herself in the gardens didn't come. She even saw several hearty Floribunda lavenders she recognized as Angel Face in full bloom, where yesterday they had just been weak buds. Mikki smiled. Inordinately proud, she dubbed herself
Goddess of the Rose.

And she daydreamed about him. Her body felt deliciously sore in places she'd forgotten she had. It had been almost a year since the last time she'd had sex, but she'd never experienced anything like making love with Asterius. His body . . . the man/beast mixture had been intriguing . . . alluring, but what she'd found most seductive was the freedom she felt with him. She could let her own beast loose when they were together and trust him not to turn away from her. He matched her, passion for passion. And he knew her—he saw into her soul. Asterius, Minotaur, Guardian—he knew what it was to be an outlander. Well, they had finally found their home—together.

“The rain was a clever idea, Empousa.”

Mikki thought she'd stroke out at the sound of Hecate's voice. “Good grief, you scared the bejeezus out of me!” Then she remembered to whom she was speaking, cleared her throat and turned around to face the goddess with a heart that pounded painfully in her chest. “I'm sorry, Hecate.” Mikki curtseyed as she had seen the handmaidens do so often. The goddess was sitting on a marble bench just a few feet behind her. “You surprised me. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.”

Hecate waved her hand dismissively. “My Empousa is allowed liberties few others will ever know.” She gestured beside her. “Come, sit with me.”

Swallowing down her nerves, she approached the goddess. The enormous dogs were at their position by her side, and they ignored Mikki completely. Hecate was clothed in the colors of night—black, the deepest blue and gray. She had manifested as the striking middle-aged woman again, and the light misting of rain looked like jewels in her dark hair.

“The spell of protection and health you cast yesterday was well thought out. I agree with your instincts. The rain refreshes the roses and the realm. Also, the little insects you commanded Earth to provide were a lovely surprise, and Wind was delighted to carry them here”—the goddess paused and then surprised Mikki with a musical laugh—“although you cannot see their red-and-black bodies through this mist.”

“Ladybugs feed on aphids, and roses hate aphids,” Mikki said, a little overwhelmed by Hecate's effusive praise.

“The roses thrive again. I am pleased.”

“Thank you, Hecate.”

“It was also good that you instructed Flame to illuminate the rose wall, most especially at the gate. Now that men will be coming and going again, you must take special care with the gate.”

Mikki rubbed a hand across her brow. “I didn't even think about that. Uh! I'm a fool. How did I expect them to get in and out of the realm?”

“It is not a bad thing that you have allowed men here again. You've made many of the women very happy. All night I heard the names of lovers whispered in invitation and carried to the ancient world where they were eagerly accepted.” Hecate's expression became sultry. “Still this morning lovers are being called and enjoyed by my women, who have long been revered as some of the most beautiful and intelligent in the ancient world. Having males about means we will have new life in the realm. Girl children are a blessing, and I look forward to the births.”

“But Dream Stealers are in the forest. We have to be careful if that gate is opening and closing at all hours.”

“You are the Empousa, Mikado. You may place limits on when the men are allowed to come and go.” Hecate gave her a kind look. “It is good that you understand the dangers that lurk on the other side of the rose barrier, but you need not worry yourself. The Guardian's strength will protect the realm. Couple his vigilance with your nurturing of the roses, and all will be well in the Realm of the Rose.”

Mikki tried not to think or react at all. She kept her mind blank and nodded respectfully.

“Excellent. Now, what I came to tell you is that I have matters to attend to which will take me far from my realm. You are not to be concerned if I do not visit here for”—she moved a round, white shoulder—“some time. Within this realm my powers are always here if you have need of them. I sense that you are relying more confidently upon your instincts, and for that I applaud your wisdom. Let your intuition guide you. If your blood and heart and spirit tell you something, then you may always believe it. And remember, Empousa, I applaud what you have done for the roses, but it is not so much your actions that have begun their recovery. It is your presence, and the blood tie you have with them that assures they will thrive. Be wise, Empousa. The dreams of mankind depend upon you . . .” Hecate raised her hand and disappeared in a glittering of mist.

CHAPTER THIRTY

M
IKKI couldn't say she wasn't relieved that Hecate would be gone for a while. Of course she'd have to tell the goddess about her relationship with Asterius. Telling her would be ever so much better than Hecate reading her mind or finding out on her own some other way. Mikki wanted to run and hide just thinking about it. So she'd tell her, but she sure as hell didn't want to do it soon. It wasn't that she was ashamed that she loved Asterius, and it wasn't that she was afraid of Hecate, though the goddess was definitely intimidating. It was just that Mikki wanted to keep Asterius to herself. Why couldn't they have privacy to discover the shared secrets of new love? Even had she fallen in love with a man back in Tulsa, Mikki would have wanted time for the two of them to get over the newness of love before she hauled him around and opened their lives up for everyone to poke and prod. She was private, and the more important something was to her, the more private she was about it. Asterius was very important to her.

When Hecate returned from wherever, she would have a conversation with her about Asterius. Then she'd deal with the goddess's response, whatever it may be. Until then she would cherish this honeymoon period they had been granted and thoroughly enjoy the fact that she had finally fallen in love.

Satisfied with her plan of attack, Mikki left the bench and checked the surrounding beds and fountains to make sure she was heading in the right direction. Hecate's comments about the men coming and going through the rose gate had worried her, and, no matter what the goddess said, she was going to keep that worry fresh. Right now her instincts were telling her to check the gate for herself—then announce a curfew, even though she loathed the thought of acting like a den mother at a naughty sorority. She'd like to talk with Asterius about it, but it only made sense to place some limits on when the gate could be open. And also, she needed to find out who exactly could open it. Asterius could, of course, and he'd said she could, too. The Dream Weavers had mentioned that the Elementals had collected the threads of reality while he had been bespelled, so they had to be able to open the gate. But who else? It would be a massive headache if every woman in the realm could wave her fingers and have the damn thing part like the Red Sea. Clearly, there was a lot of work for her to do.

Checking her mental watch, Mikki picked up her pace. She really did need to get a move on and call her handmaidens. She could, of course, call them right now and have them meet her out here in the gardens, but it seemed too Nurse Ratchet-like. She'd much rather get the gate checked, hurry back to her room, change out of her wet (and torn, then pieced back together this morning) chiton, have Daphne bring some lovely tea and eventually have a comfortable meeting with the girls over a late brunch. And anyway, it was still early. The handmaidens weren't stupid. They could certainly look at the weather and realize that there was little work in the gardens they could do in the rain. Maybe they would even climb back in bed. Mikki smiled to herself, hoping they weren't climbing back into lonely beds—tonight she certainly wouldn't be.

The rain had moved lazily from drizzle to mist to a moon-colored fog that drifted over the roses as if they were in the Lake District of England. The fog thickened the farther south she walked, and Mikki was preoccupied with thoughts of the evening to come, trying to decide if she could sneak Asterius up to the hot springs for a whole new meaning to “scrubbed clean,” when multiflora roses reared in front of her nose and she almost smacked into the wall.

“Remember, next spell tell Wind to blow away the fog after the rain,” she mumbled to herself while she scanned the gate for signs of wear and tear. “You look good,” she pronounced, patting part of the foliage.

“Priestess! Can you help us?”

Mikki looked around, trying to see where the deep voice was coming from. It was unmistakably male, which seemed out of place in the gardens.

“Here, Priestess! We're out here!”

Mikki realized that the voice was coming from the other side of the rose wall. She bent a little so she could look through a less-dense part of the climbing branches, and her eyes widened in surprise. Four men stood just outside the gate, surrounded by thick gray fog. Three of them were dressed as she imagined ancient Greek men should dress. In toga-looking outfits, with one arm bare, and regal purple embroidered cloaks tossed over their broad backs. They were all tall, well built and youthfully handsome.

The fourth man was clearly their leader and the one who had spoken. He stood in front of the others and was dressed in much the same style she was used to seeing Asterius wear, with a cuirasse over a short, pleated tunic. But there is where his similarity to her lover ended. This man was beautiful, tall and golden. Even in the foggy morning he shined. His skin was tanned to that singular color only a few true blondes get naturally—a healthy, burnished brown that looked like the purest of honey. It covered a body that was perfection. He was athletically built, without being too heavily muscled and brutish. His hair was thick and wavy, cut short enough to be masculine, but left long enough to be endearingly boyish. His eyes were so blue that Mikki could feel them searching through the roses to find her.

She'd never seen a man that handsome in person. Usually such perfection was limited to Hollywood and the machinations of filmmakers and plastic surgeons.

“There you are, Priestess!” He smiled, and his incredible face lit with warmth. “We're here. We answered your call.”

She smiled back (who wouldn't return a smile like that?). “My call?”

“Well, Priestess, I can only pray to the Great Goddess that I could be lucky enough to be called by a beauty such as you.”

Ridiculously, Mikki felt her face flush. “I've heard that blue eyes are weaker than brown or green. I think you've just proven the rumor true.”

He laughed, and the sound was as catching as it was seductive. “Ah, I see my prayers have been answered! The goddess has granted me a priestess who has wit as well as beauty.” He took a few steps toward the rose gate. His friends followed.

Mikki watched him move with a natural confidence that was easy and attractive—and so unlike Asterius's inhumanly feral grace that the comparison was jarring. She didn't desire the golden man, but she did feel a sliver of envy for the woman who had called him, followed instantly by a rush of guilt. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd just left Asterius's bed after proclaiming her love for him! And here she was gawking all calf-eyed at a handsome stranger? Maybe the rain had seeped through her head and into her brain, waterlogging it.