Not very quickly. She wasn’t sure what she could do or that she could even leave the room—seeing the fire in the marquess’s eyes. “I could send for Mia,” she said after a moment. “Aunty said that my cousin has an excellent way of setting things aright.”
“Hang Mia!” Virbius shouted. “I don’t trust her. She came to us in a very sudden manner. I fought the sirens, I can fight Aphrodite’s daughter. I don’t need her help!”
“Are you sure. Perhaps Mia has already come.”
His hands tightened on the rosewood desk. “If you could just throw something hard at me—preferably at my head—that would do the trick.”
Affry gaped at him. “Perhaps I could restrain you somehow.”
“Yes, because you are so strong you can overpower me.” He had resorted to sarcasm, which wasn’t a new thing, but considering he was supposed to be in the throes of love, it gave her hope—not that he would overcome his new feelings for her, but that perhaps he had feelings for her all along. Had he not said so himself?
“Virbius, do you truly want to kiss me?”
“Why are we talking about this? There is a perfectly good bookend over there. Crash it over my head.”
“I won’t! Virbius, I like you, too—and I am not under a spell of love as you are!”
“Don’t talk that way, Affry. We’ll delay this until it fades.”
“I’ve no wish to.”
“Must I do everything myself?” He pushed the desk away from them, so that nothing stood between them but an arm’s length. She stared uncertainly at him. When he did not move, she did. It wasn’t her most brilliant strategy, she knew it the moment she felt his arms around her. He crushed her to his chest. “How many kisses does it take?” he asked her breathlessly.
She lifted her head to his. “At least one, I’m sure.”
“I doubt that is all, my dearest Affry.” His eyes were tender on hers. “You almost make me forget my vow to never follow Aphrodite.”
“Why mustn’t you follow your heart, Virbius?”
“She is certainly not my heart. You are.” And still he did not kiss her. If the berries brought out the love one felt, then this must be how Virbius demonstrated his affection—by resisting its pull. “This is for your own good,” he told her.
Too late, she realized his intent. The perfectly good bookend was a fraction from her shoulder. Before he could reach for it, however, a voice stopped him.
“It takes hundreds of kisses to cool your ardor, I’d say.” The earl stepped into the room. His hair slicked to the sides, droplets of water sparkling on his pronounced cheekbones. “Please. Don’t let me interrupt. I’d much rather you were knocked senseless while I drag Affry to Hades with me—though either way, Virbius, I will have her.”
Virbius jerked Affry back from the earl, shielding her from him, giving Affry no choice but to dig her fingers into his shoulder for leverage so she could stand on tiptoe to see better. Ariadne followed the earl into the study, her blue skirts sweeping across the hard wooden floor. Besides looking a little disheveled, Ariadne still had an unpleasant look about her. Piri was nowhere to be seen. Affry hadn’t a clue what was happening.
The earl caught Affry’s gaze behind the marquess’s shoulder. “Poor Affry. Has he not kissed you yet?” His dulcet tones felt like a song, speaking to her as no one’s had—it felt almost hypnotizing. “Even under the spell of love, he cannot bring himself to do it. Surely you see how much he despises you?”
Affry noticed the muscles on Virbius’s jaw tighten, but he didn’t fight the accusation. Her spirits dropped. There was an irresistible quality about the earl’s words. Something not right—the man talked of the underworld like he knew more of what Hades wanted than she did. She didn’t care how; she only wanted Virbius to fling his words back into his face.
Chapter Sixteen
Virbius listened to the earl’s honeyed voice, feeling as helpless as he did against the spell of love. Zeus, did he just declare his feelings for Affry? Over and over again. Affry would know how he saw her now, which made what the earl said all the more foolish.
“You know why he hates you, of course?” the earl asked Affry. His eyes glittered with hate. “The good marquess died once because of your mother.”
“My…my mother?” Affry asked.
“Lucas,” Virbius warned. It had been too long since his last life—the faces all blended into one—he couldn’t recall who the Earl of Lytus had been so long ago, but he must know him. A man who could control them all with soothing words seemed impossible to forget.
The earl all but ignored his threatening looks. “Oh yes. Your mother cursed Virbius for spurning love. It was a most tragic death—unfair. We all remarked on it.”
Affry gasped at this. “Virbius? Is this true? Did Aphrodite hurt you?”
“His own father ordered his death because of what she did,” the earl answered for him. “Of course that stings. Surely you’ve heard of Virbius’s father? Theseus—he’s not a nice figure in our history.”
Ariadne scowled at the mention of his father’s name. Both she and the earl knew more than Virbius could possibly remember and still it didn’t signify. The more agitated Affry became, the more likely the gates of Hades would open to claim her. Virbius fought to speak, only to manage a gruff warning. “Don’t listen . . . Affry.”
“But…but his voice is hypnotizing,” Affry said.
“My voice?” The earl laughed. “It is my instrument—I play it when it pleases me to do so. Now, be quiet, Virbius.” The earl’s voice came more melodious this time, flowing like a silk rope around a doomed man’s neck. The order rendered Virbius almost senseless. He barely remembered to breathe as the earl turned to poor Affry clinging to Virbius’s back. “The gods aren’t good, Affry. You know nothing of what happens. Virbius keeps it all from you. He’s trained you to fight these shadows, but do you know what they are?” Her hand loosened against Virbius’s shoulder. “No?” The earl clucked his tongue against his teeth. “I didn’t think you did. Your father wants you back in his loving arms.”
The air ripped open—the hissing from the underworld invading Virbius’s once peaceful study. What was the earl’s game? Had Hades made some sort of deal with the man? Were they having such a difficult time grabbing Affry that they needed outside help? It was ludicrous. Dark clouds made up one side of the room. Shadows slipped from the void like a pot boiling over. They took shape, growing assorted limbs and fur.
“My father wants me?” The tragic note in Affry’s voice burned at the marquess’s heart, and again he fought to loosen his tongue. The earl nodded slowly. “Then why toy with me?” she asked.
“What better way to get the fair Aphrodite’s attention?”
“You know my mother?”
“Oh,” the earl said. “You’ve not had the pleasure of meeting her? Well, she is much too busy with her affairs of the heart to be bothered by the results of them.” The shrieks from the underworld grew in power—all spurred on by Affry’s emotions. “Come, my dear.” The earl stretched an elegant hand for her. “It is not at all the fashion for your lips to droop so unbecomingly. Let us be friends.”
The earl had not ordered that he remain still. Virbius lunged and interposed himself between Affry and the hazy, ethereal portal. Gathering all his strength from within, Virbius struggled against the heavy weight holding his tongue. “Don’t . . . Affry.” he growled out.
The earl looked momentarily nonplussed. Ariadne’s eyes, too, gleamed with confusion. Had no one defied their power before this?
Affry’s brow creased. ’“And why shouldn’t I be friends with the earl, Virbius? He is the only one who has been honest with me.”
“Has he?” Now that he had resisted the earl’s persuasive power, Virbius attempted to jolt her from her enchantment as well. “Has he told you the villain he is or would that only bring you to him faster?”
Her intake of breath came out a hiss at the insult. More shadows escaped into the study, but this time, her eyes followed
their movement. These ones possessed long snouts. Fire breathed from their nostrils. These were the man-eating mares caught by Hercules himself.
The earl stayed them with one word and the beasts stopped from descending on their helpless meal. The earl turned back to Affry, his smile confident. “He calls himself your guardian? Virbius merely wants you for himself.”
“Affry,” the marquess warned. “Do not give into his voice.”
The earl laughed. “None can fight it, though you seem better at resisting than most—could it be that terrible hardness Dionysus poured into your spirit? Does it hurt to feel, Virbius?”
“No!” Affry shouted. Her eyes had turned surprisingly clear. “You said Virbius didn’t want me? Now he does? You lied!”
The earl’s eyes widened, so did Virbius’s. Could the man not give contradictory statements with his honeyed voice? The power of it must ring them doubly false. Virbius steadied himself, readying for the ensuing fight, but it came from unexpected quarters.
A shadow revealing a tentacle grabbed Affry’s petite ankle and dragged her across the room in a cloud of skirts and petticoats. Immediately, Virbius had the bookend he had intended for himself and chucked it at the creature. It crumpled. Affry fought her way free.
Shadows dripped from the ceiling like spilt wine, taking the shape of monsters that attacked from all sides. Judging by the screams in the halls outside, some had made their way as far as the ballroom to torment their errant guests. Euthymia would have an attack of the vapors when she saw it.
Ariadne screamed when a great furry thing with claws came for her. The dark-haired girl had only a moment to recover before she unwrapped a long bracelet from her upper arm and snapped it at the beast. It snarled seconds before the jewelry tied around its forelegs, tripping it and causing it to sprawl across the hard polished floor. Its teeth broke and wisps of shadowy blood trickled across the room.
The earl pulled out a curved dagger from his boot. “Enough! Pull back!” he cried, the melody ringing hollow. After his verbal blunder, his voice had lost its power to halt the shadows’ advance.
Affry found Virbius in the commotion. Her fingers slid over his chest. He still wasn’t immune to her charms, but with difficulty, he kept himself from making improper advances in the middle of a battle.
“Virbius! Do you see him? It’s my father.” She pointed back at the shimmering portal.
That was enough to turn Virbius cold. Adonis—or a darker, more sinister version of him—stared at them through the void. His eyes were wrong, but Affry shouted out to him. “Father!”
Adonis stepped closer. His skin glistened silver under the candlelight. There was a rebellion against the gods. The demigods were rising up. It prompted another memory—Virbius had been a threat against this cause. Adonis asked him to join him and Virbius refused. The two had fought. It was the trigger that ended it all. Was this what Artemis had asked him when she had raised Virbius from the dead?
“Father!” she screamed.
Virbius saw his own father in his minds’ eye. Theseus. Their bitter argument. The bulls trampled over him, his own death—had there been more behind it? Adonis’s treachery even? Affry ran for her father and Virbius turned swiftly to her. “No, Affry!”
Fighting through his own mental anguish, he made a grab to stop her from flinging herself into the underworld to get to her father. She beat at him with her small fists. “No, please. Let me go to my father.”
He gritted his teeth under her pleas, unable to give in. The shadows swirled around them. The man-eating mares kept back, fearing the hardness of his soul but galloping a circle around him and Affry, creating a pressure that drew them into the underworld while he clung to her. He took out the lion’s claw, but it would prove meager protection. Once the underworld had them, the weapon would only take them so far. Virbius shouted out in desperation, “Look at your father’s skin, Affry!”
She forced her face from his chest and stared. “What is it?”
“He is silver!”
Her breath came out in gasps, her heart racing against his. Adonis came closer with Adonis’s form, looking like he once did and yet not like him at all. “Not my father,” she said.
It was better she believed that than her father had turned against them all.
Chapter Seventeen
Affry closed her eyes and concentrated. With one hand on Virbius’s broad shoulder, she struggled to close the gates of the underworld with an exertion of mental force. Her father wasn’t trying to reach her. The earl had lied. And Virbius—he wanted to kiss her the moment he met her.
A brisk clapping behind them made her turn. “Off with you. Off, I say.”
Affry found her cousin Mia in the chaos. “Virbius,” Mia called imperiously, her vibrant red hair whipped around her in the whirlwind caused by shadow and beast. “Remove that necklace from my cousin!”
Gritting his teeth, Virbius did as Mia bade. His rough fingers slid under the ruby necklace Affry’s father gave her. He tugged, ripping it far from her. The rubies came loose, rolling across the floor. As soon as the stones left her skin, the nightmare vanished. The Underworld disappeared as well as the horrible silver man that stared at her with her father’s sightless eyes.
Affry and Virbius both slammed to the floor, flattened by the violence of the void closing. Affry grimaced in pain. In the sudden silence, she was only aware of her own breathing mixed with Virbius’s—the warmth of it on her neck, his arms still shielding her. She stared up at him. His dark eyes were impossible to read as they caught hers in his gaze.
“Well, that’s enough excitement for the night.”
Affry turned to see Mia standing in the middle of the mess, small fists at her slim waist. She was dressed to dance in an elaborate silk ball gown of the brightest red, and—Affry knew—if she had her way, she still would. Affry sagged with relief.
The marquess, on the other hand, groaned up at her cousin, though he still did not let Affry go. Mia smirked at him, her freckles more pronounced on her fair skin. “Must I always clean up after you, Virbius?”
“I had it, Mia.”
“So it seems.” She looked unimpressed. “The necklace carries the pomegranate seeds from the Underworld. It caused quite the disturbance.” She tipped her head toward the door leading to the hall. “I also see that a certain Mr. Pirithous is having a hard time of it—I had to send him to his bed with a nasty headache.” Her ornate slippers nudged the crushed berry on the ground.
Affry almost shouted out a warning and thought better of it. Mia could take care of herself. Her cousin resisted picking up the flattened remnants, instead sniffed at them. Her great roman nose wrinkled. “Oh, there’s something else to this than just love, Affry—there is malice behind it. Where did that come from, my dear?”
Affry tried not to look too guilty. Mia looked past her nose at Ariadne and the earl. Both of them struggled to sit up from the floor. “Thank you for attending our Christmas entertainment,” Mia said with a stern look. “We have chosen a modern reenactment of the Twelfth Night with shadow, smoke, and mirrors for spectacular effect—please tell the horrified guests outside.”
Ariadne sprang to her feet, ripping her blue gown in the process. The earl grasped her by the elbow and they scrambled from the study without a fight.
Mia shrugged with a delicate lift of her shoulders. “I can’t depend on the earl to calm the masses. He’ll most likely sneak out the back with your aunty’s best silver—such a shame he’ll be snowed in here with us. I dearly hate the man.”
Affry struggled to sit up. “Who is he, cousin?”
“Only a servant of the underworld.” Mia rubbed her hands briskly. “I must set things aright. Now, if you please, I must make my fashionable entrance to aunty’s ball.” She left them abruptly, but not without further provoking the marquess. “Truly Virbius,” she said, “if you love my cousin so very much, you simply must tell her before she slips from you. It’s in your eyes, but a girl must have more than looks�
��it just isn’t the thing.” Her giggle echoed down the great hall.
“Managing female.”
Affry became aware that Virbius’s arms were still around her, even as he pulled up to sit beside her. With great daring, she rested her head against his muscular shoulder. “Really, Virbius. You’re just angry because she is more managing than you. I believe you might make the perfect match of it.”
“And I believe you are thoroughly incorrigible, moppet.” His hand went to her ankle to inspect it. She cried out in pain and concern filled his face. “Have you twisted it then?” he asked.
She felt the tears well up in her eyes, but it had nothing to do with her ankle. Now that Virbius was free of that terrible curse she’d put on him, he was as calm as ever—worse—he had slipped easily back into his role of attentive guardian. Now that she knew the reason behind his contempt, she could hardly blame him for not renewing his intentions, but his eyes were steady on hers and she scrambled to find a tangible reason for her distress. “I shan’t be able to dance at the next ball,” she said.
“Ah, yes, that is most upsetting. The poor men will be heartbroken.”
“Oh you laugh, but I had such intrigues in store.”
“Perhaps it is for the best then.”
She felt his hand on hers and realized that his fingers trailed a pattern over her skin that sent her to tingling. Her chin lifted and as soon as they met eyes, his lips met hers in a gentle kiss. His mouth was as soft as she imagined it would be. His hands slid through her hair and after pulling away to inspect the gold color of it, his mouth went to her ear then her cheek where he poured his kisses on her until he found her mouth again. She felt positively aglow under his touch.
When he pulled away too soon, his smile filled her heart with warmth. “I could grow accustomed to this Christmas thing,” he said. He laced his fingers through hers. “How long does it take to wear off?”
Was he speaking of the effect of the berries or Christmas? Affry felt like she held her breath when she answered him. “Depends on the gentleman. I thought a cold fish like you would rather spend a miserable night out in the storm than be taken in by love.”
A Fantasy Christmas Page 17