Once Upon A Kiss: Seventeen Romantic Faerie Tales

by Alethea Kontis

  Soft bonds wrapped around her body. Alice thrashed, startled by the sudden constriction. Twisting her body this way and that, she snarled at whatever held her, determined to free herself. She had to see Jaspar, had to go to him, make sure he was all right. That roar echoed in her head, plucked at primal instincts. There’d been danger in that sound, a ferocity she couldn’t begin to fathom.

  “Open your eyes, Alice.”

  Her eyes flew open. The cat, Dinah, was sitting on her chest, staring down at her with that expression of affection and judgment that only cats seemed capable of. She bolted upright, ignoring the cat’s meow of protest and the sharp pain of its thin claws digging into her stomach.

  She was in her bed. Lying there entangled in the sheets, as if she’d taken the nap she’d intended, as if everything that she’d experienced had been a dream. Dinah sat in the center of her bed, its ears flattened in an expression of extreme annoyance.

  “That was real, wasn’t it? It was all real.”

  “Yes,” it snapped. It raised a paw and began licking it in short, quick laps. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Jaspar. Is he all right?”

  Dinah paused long enough to narrow its eyes at her. “What am I, your messenger? Go see for yourself.”

  Another sharp meow of protest followed Alice as she cast back her coverlet and scrambled from the bed. The roar still echoed in her head, a lingering image of Jaspar’s black-lined face. She’d been right, hadn’t she? Pulling that hair, that silver hair, had broken the silver cord. His tiger had returned to him, made him whole again.

  Hadn’t it?

  She snatched Dinah from the bed, ignoring the hissing and spitting as she bolted from her bedroom. “Tell me about Caspians. No, just tell me about Jaspar. What happened to him? Do you know? Could something bad have happened when I pulled that hair? Could it have hurt him?”

  The cat said nothing, just went completely limp in her arms. Suddenly it was like trying to hold a long bag of water, and Alice had to stop and fight to get it all in her arms again, to make sure she didn’t drop it and trip over it in her haste.

  “I thought you were supposed to help me,” she growled, elbowing open her front door and cursing when she almost dropped the uncooperative beast.

  “And you’re supposed to help me,” Dinah responded. “Look at me! I’m a ball of fluff because you couldn’t be bothered to think of me, to entertain the notion of any form other than the kitten you wanted as a child. I am an eidolon, not a house pet!”

  It continued complaining as Alice ran, saving her breath for the exertion of making the trip to Jaspar’s on foot. It was not going to be an easy journey, and she thought of the few coins she had on her, debating whether to spend them on a carriage.

  “I was a warrior once,” the cat continued wistfully, still stubbornly boneless. “I had a glorious, monstrous form. I ate people.” It paused. “For my master, of course,” it added.

  Alice ducked into a small alley between two houses, pressing her back against the wall as she heaved the cat up to look into its eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, panting. Her chest burned with the effort of her hectic run, a little voice in her head telling her the entire city was going to think her deranged after watching her dash around like dog after a squirrel. “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t know what you were. I didn’t want to know. But now I do, and I promise I’ll be better. But I have to know he’s all right.”

  The cat met her eyes finally, a cool, assessing look in its slitted pupils. Finally, it nodded. “He’s all right. He’ll be out of sorts for a bit, the stress of changing after being stuck in human form for so long, but he’ll survive.” It sagged a little more in her arms, pressing its tiny head against her forehead. “Can I stop being a cat now?”

  Alice hugged it to her, letting the wall support her weight as she went weak with relief. She nodded, dropping kisses on the cat’s soft head. “You know…” she said slowly. She smiled. “I’ve always wanted a dragon.”

  Dinah’s head shot up, a look of utter delight on its feline features. Before Alice’s eyes, its body wavered, blurred, and began to change. Its soft grey and white body turned to a sapphire blue, downy fur replaced by shining scales. Its size didn’t change much, but the tail that curled around Alice’s arm, and the leathery wings that unfurled from its back, made it more difficult to hold. She shifted it in her grip, settling it on her shoulder, where it perched like a very large, very fearsome bird.

  “Now this is more like it.”

  Smoke curled from its mouth as it spoke, and Alice grinned. “Good thing no one else can see you. I’d imagine you’d give most people quite a fright.”

  Its opalescent eyes glittered. “Oh, yes.”

  Alice took a deep breath and straightened, brushing at her skirts to set them right. “Well, let’s get on with it, then. We’ve a long walk ahead of us.”

  “Not as long as you might think.”

  Alice arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  The dragon tilted its head, tapping the weight of its tail against her spine. “You are a summoner, a master of the astral plane. You can plane-shift, and if you concentrate—with my help—you can step into the astral plane and step out again right next to your beau’s house.”

  Alice ignored the comment about Jaspar being her beau, though she admitted to herself that the idea didn’t bother her as much as it once had. “Show me.”

  The dragon lashed its tail, satisfaction rolling off it in waves. “Any betwixt will do. A doorway, a body of water, two trees standing side by side.” It inclined its horned head toward the mouth of the alley between houses. “That will do just fine. Walk between the houses and focus on that moment when you would pass out into the open. Think of the space between Jaspar’s house and his neighbor’s.”

  “This seems very strange,” Alice murmured, even as she squared her shoulders and prepared to march for the mouth of the alley.

  “Delightfully so,” the dragon agreed. “Don’t worry, I will help you. It is what I do.”

  She was already walking, already focusing on the alley and giving herself the mental lecture she used to give when she wanted to convince herself she was not out of her mind. Only this time, she didn’t shy away from the thoughts and ideas that had given her the reputation.

  It had been that reputation that had made them push her toward Jaspar, that reputation that had brought her to his attention, kept them together long enough for him to see in her a kindred spirit. If she hadn’t had that reputation, she would have succeeded in her attempts to run away, would never have learned the truth of Jaspar. It had taken her too long to face her fear already, too long for her to accept Jaspar for who he was—and herself as well. There was no more time to waste.

  It was a nod to her total immersion in madness that she wasn’t the least bit disoriented when she stepped out of the alley to find herself beside Jaspar’s elegant home. In point of fact, she felt only triumph, satisfaction that reality had met her expectation for once.

  The same could not be said for the butler taking some air on the front porch.

  The old man’s eyes bugged out of his head, his lips parting in shock as his brown eyes followed Alice across the small, neatly trimmed yard and onto the porch. The generous lines in his face deepened as he visibly struggled to come to grips with her sudden appearance.

  “I need to see Jaspar,” Alice announced, fisting her skirts as she resolutely marched up the stairs to stand before the butler. She paused, cursing a sudden blush as she stuck her chin out. “Mr. Wellington,” she corrected herself. “I need to see Mr. Wellington.”

  The butler was still blinking, long, slow blinks, as if he hoped she would turn out to be a figment of his imagination if he just waited long enough. Finally, he gave up that dream and straightened his spine. “I’m sorry, Miss Porter. Mr. Wellington isn’t feeling well, and he’s left very specific instructions that he’s not to be disturbed.”

  “He’ll see me,”
she said confidently. “Just tell him I’m here.”

  The butler shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Miss Porter,” he repeated. “His instructions were very…adamant. He is not to be disturbed, by anyone, under any circumstances.”

  Alice tightened her hands into fists. She took her gaze from the butler just long enough to stare at the doorframe, follow the outline. The rest of the house sprawled out behind him, giving her a good view of the doorway leading to the next room. If she remembered correctly from one of the visits her mother had dragged her along on, there was a staircase beyond that next door. Surely her eidolon could help her find Jaspar’s room from there?

  “Any betwixt will do.”

  She wanted to look at the dragon, to ask it if she could do what she wanted to do, but there was no reason to set the butler off any more than he already was. Instead, she offered him an understanding smile—and bolted under his arm through the doorway.

  An image of the next room hovered clearly in her mind, and she grinned when the butler’s shout behind her was farther back than it should have been. She’d made it through the front door and skipped the foyer entirely. With the head start she had now, she had no trouble dashing up the stairs ahead of the old man.

  “Help me find Jaspar’s room?” she asked the dragon.

  The dragon grinned. “Run through the next doorway. I’ll get you there and then I’ll leave you be for the time being.”

  Alice’s heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t slow down. “You’re leaving me? Why?”

  The dragon offered her a view of rows of sharp teeth in a smile that was not as calming as it must have meant it to be. “I don’t think you’ll want an audience.”

  Something about the smirk on its reptilian face was discomforting, but Alice had no time to think. The butler was huffing along behind her, a hoarse, but still polite protest following her erratic dash. Other servants were staring at her from inside the rooms she passed, their eyes wide, lips parted. She paid them no mind, just focused on an open doorway ahead. The dragon’s tail was a reassuring weight down her spine as she bolted through the doorway and held her breath.

  Darkness closed around her and she stumbled, arms flung wide as she tried to stop her forward momentum. She widened her eyes, trying to see in the sudden shadow, her heart pounding as a strange scent tickled her nose. Familiar, but not, a thick, musky scent. If only she could remember where she’d encountered it before—

  Tiger.

  Fear seized her spine, making her choke on a gasp that wanted to be a scream. Her eyes were adjusting to the shadows, making her aware that she was standing in someone’s bedroom. Thick curtains had been drawn over the windows, leaving the room in twilight that had seemed like darkness when she’d plunged into it so suddenly from the bright light of day. She almost wished she couldn’t see, couldn’t stare at the broken ceramic that littered the edges of the room, the ragged carpet that looked as though it had been raked over with thick claws.

  A tickle against her spine sent cold beads of sweat down her temples, and she suddenly remembered for the second time that day a very unfortunate piece of information Jaspar had once shared with her in conversation.

  Tigers always attacked by ambush. From behind.

  She whirled around before she could force herself not to, torn between warring desires. Part of her needed to look, to see what was behind her, and the other part begged her not to, to just look at the other side of the room and pretend she was still safe downstairs. Perhaps she could escape the same way she’d come in.

  Jaspar was crouched on the bed, the curtains that fell around it half torn away to bathe him in the faint light from the curtained window. He was still human—barely. His eyes, nose, and mouth were as she remembered them, but soft fur began at his jaw line on either side of his lips, curling back to meet hair that seemed fuller than it had before. His shoulders were broad, bunched muscles straining under skin that was more orange than it should have been, and covered with thin, curling black stripes.

  One knee pressed into the bed, bracketed by arms singing with tension. Alice didn’t look down to see if his fingers were clawed. Partly because she didn’t want to know, and partly because she was incredibly aware that the bestial man before her was quite…naked.

  It’s only Jaspar. You knew what he was. There is absolutely no reason to be afraid.

  Her lips trembled as she wrenched them into a smile, her spine stubbornly refusing to straighten. “Are you—” Her voice was hoarse, and it cracked before she could get the words out. She pressed her lips together and clenched her hands into fists. After swallowing harder than she’d intended, she tried again. “Are you all right?”

  He leapt off the bed to land softly on his feet no more than an arm’s length away. Alice thought she’d faint dead away, the spasming of her heart warning that another sudden move from him could set her screaming for help, consequences be damned. There was a tension to his body that vibrated against her skin, an overwhelming impression of barely restrained power. His fingers twitched at his sides, and she couldn’t help but notice she’d been right about the claws. And the nudity.

  Those unnerving green eyes followed her gaze, and she stared for several long moments at the black sickles curling from his fingertips. His hands flexed, and Alice watched in morbid fascination as the claws disappeared.

  Her relief was short-lived, as one of those hands rose to cup her jaw and trail a thumb over her lower lip. Heat flooded her body, pooling between her legs even as her heart resumed its panicked beat against the wall of her chest. Very slowly, she drew in a deep breath, not wanting to suck in the air she so desperately needed for fear of breaking the spell that seemed to hold him still. Her caution was futile.

  A tiny scream escaped her as his arm shot out, curled around her waist, and jerked her forward. Jaspar crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sound as he slanted his head to seal them together. He spun their bodies around and pressed her back against the wall, never breaking their kiss.

  She’d been in his arms before, felt his arms around her as they moved about one dance floor or another. But never had she felt this passion, this raw, unrestrained desire that coursed between them now. He kissed her as if she were already his.

  Shock held her mind frozen, but her body felt no such restraint. She folded into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck in mutual possession. He sucked in a sharp breath, holding her tighter against him, as if her response encouraged him, satisfied him in some way. The last of her apprehension slid away and she parted her lips, let him deepen the kiss.

  For the first time since she’d met him, she let herself feel without worrying about his mental state or her own. She knew the truth now. They weren’t damaged goods. Neither of them. The world would never understand, would continue to think them mad, but that didn’t matter anymore.

  They remained in one another’s arms, kissing and sharing breath, not a sliver of air between them. The wall was as solid against her back as his chest was against her front, anchoring her in this time, this place. A good thing, given how weak her knees were, how difficult it was to remain standing.

  Especially when there was a bed so very close by.

  That thought let a little bit of reality in, and Alice reluctantly pulled back, putting a hand on his chest to keep him from chasing her mouth into another kiss. Green eyes blinked at her, hazy with desire.

  “Are you all right?”

  Her voice was breathier than she would have liked, but understandably so. Jaspar stared at her for a few long seconds, then slowly, he nodded.

  “Not alone in your body anymore?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  The arm around her waist tightened, his green gaze falling to her mouth again. Alice’s stomach fluttered and she had to swallow twice before she could speak.

  “Say something,” she demanded breathlessly.

  His lips brushed her cheek, trailing over her jaw to her ear.

  “Marry me,”
he whispered.

  Alice blinked and pulled back to look into his eyes. There was a calm there that she hadn’t seen when he’d asked her before. A conviction. Slowly, she nodded.

  “All right.”

  * * *

  Author’s Note:

  * * *

  I hope you enjoyed “Mad About You,” a Blackstream original twist on Alice in Wonderland. Any D&D/Pathfinder players may recognize the concept of the summoner. I believe that may be my next game character…

  Originally, Alice was supposed to be dreaming a sort of shared-dream with the Mad Hatter, but then I decided having an entire story be a dream was a bit much. Hence, the astral plane and the birth of Alice as a summoner. After writing it, I fell so hard for these ideas that it’s very likely I’ll eventually make this into a full length novel. The Queen has so much potential…

  If you’re intrigued by my mythos of the Caspian, you may be interested in the Aladdin retelling I have coming later this year. To be alerted when that happens, and to get another fairy tale short story for free, visit my website and sign up for my mailing list. http://www.jenniferblackstream.com/

  The Sea King’s Daughter - Anthea Sharp

  The surface of the North Sea rolled and ruffled quietly beneath the May wind. In the sky overhead, gulls caught the eddies, calling in high, lonely voices. The rocky shore of Eire rose on the horizon, a dark blur of land before the water stretched away for thousands of miles to the west.

  Beneath the waters, the calm beauty of the day mattered little. Pale sunshine filtered down, and further down, to the very halls of the Sea King, where the matters of the world above meant very little. His palace rose from the sea bed, whorls of shell and pearl glowing with iridescence. Four fanciful towers, one for each of his daughters, were decked with banners of woven sea grass that waved in the gentle eddies