"Checking up on you. I was in the neighborhood.” He nodded toward the spring behind the bell and watched emotions dance across her lovely face.
Belle's eyes dropped and the flush on her cheeks rose. She gripped her knees tight and turned her head away from his gaze. “Duty's the same. The bell's in no danger. All is right with the world, yadda yadda.” She flicked her wrist in irritation.
Roarke narrowed his eyes. “You know how important this duty is.” Why couldn't she be more responsible? Shouldn't his mate match him in all things?
"I'm doing my duty, Roarke,” she snapped and glared at him. “No sex, no play, nothing.” She clenched her jaw in frustration and dropped her violet gaze to the toes of her boots. “Two months already, and another week to go. New Year's can't come fast enough.” Silver strands of hair tumbled from the curls pinned on top of her delicate head and she blew them out of her face with an impatient puff of air.
Roarke bit back a chuckle. Her hair was a constant consternation for the poor girl. He nodded his head. “So you have, Belle. You have yet to leave the bell's perimeter for anything at all during your shift. I'm very impressed."
She sighed and raised her dark gaze to his once more. The power of emotion behind her eyes was like a punch in the gut. Anger turned to fury, to pain, and then to lust, darkening the hue to a deep violet. He fell against the side of the bell and wished he could bring her something other than pain.
His touch triggered a small splash of magick. Her gaze sharpened on his hand and sudden sexual tension arced between them.
Chapter Two
Belle stared at his hand, had felt the heat of his touch through the bell like a caress on her clit. She searched his expression for some idea of his thoughts, but it was like looking into a still pool. No reaction. How did his mind hide all that passion?
She waited for a moment before telling him the truth. “I have left my bell."
Dark eyebrows rose over his emerald eyes and a smile lit his sweet lips. “When?” He caressed the bell wall.
Belle shivered. It felt like he was touching her skin rather than the cold metal of the bell. So this was why her grandmother warned her of another touching the bell. Her nipples hardened to tight buds and lust spread throughout her body.
"I was going to the spring to bathe.” Which was the truth. She avoided his gaze.
"You were going to?” his dark voice trembled slightly.
Belle twisted the gauzy material of her dress between hands that itched to touch him. “I stopped when I saw you there."
"This bell is absolutely lovely.” He mused, running his fingers along the rim.
"Stop touching the bell!” Belle jumped to her feet and demanded her body to ignore the thrumming need quaking in her pussy. Surprise danced across his face before closing off once again. She put forward her best glare. The very glare should have intimidated the most intrusive Fae in Fae-dom, and the jerk just crossed his arms and glared back.
"Why?"
"Look, Roarke.” She walked over and poked him in the chest. “I have a responsibility here, and you are, not. To. Touch. The. Bell.” She tapped his chest at every pause.
He captured her fingertip in his hand and held it still against the broad expanse of his chest. Belle's heart skipped a beat. His warm palm sent waves of awareness through her body. It was the same hand that had stroked him off. She bit back a groan.
He waited for just a moment before capturing her lips in a sensual kiss. He tasted and sipped from her mouth like it was a fine Elven wine. Belle was lost under the gentle torment. Her breasts swelled and the ache in her pussy increased to a pulsing throb. She rubbed her legs together to ease it, but only made it worse.
Roarke tugged her close and wrapped his arms around her. The sensitive peaks of her breasts crushed against his chest and she moaned into his mouth. His flavor was sweet nectar. His kiss became hungry and his mouth slanted over hers, devouring with hard lust.
She molded her hips to his instinctually, desperate to have a taste of what his wings promised. His hands molded the curves of her ass, gripping them to grind his cock against her heated skin. She gasped and fisted his shirt in trembling hands.
As one they fell to their knees, exploring, tasting, aching for one another. She tore at his shirt, pulling it over his still dripping head. She groaned at the Faerie perfection under her fingertips. With light scrapes of her fingernails she traced the ridges of his tight abs. Her wishes hadn't done this moment justice. His needy moan tore through her like an aphrodisiac, tingling deep within her pussy. He wasn't experienced enough to play games.
The train of her thoughts screeched to a halt. He wasn't experienced because he was a keeper of Faerie Law. Her stomach knotted in sudden anxiety and she shoved him away. A tiny lick of magick swirled around her.
Their breaths came in hard gasps and she held him at arms’ length, attempting to ignore the way her kisses had left him dazed, his expression as shattered as she felt. Maybe he wasn't playing, but she'd given her word.
She choked on her lust. “You made me swear.” The lick of magick became a small burn on the back of her neck. Great magick was forming.
Roarke slowly blinked like wakening from a sleep. “Swear what?"
Belle pushed up from her knees and stood over him, drawing the ragged edges of her pride together. “You made me swear to forsake sex during my tour. What is this, some kind of test?” She took a ragged breath, trying to breathe through the thickening magick in the bell. Something was happening and she couldn't stop it.
Roarke shook his head and narrowed his eyes to shining slits. His face could have been carved from granite. “I would never do such a thing."
"So you make rules in order to break them yourself,” she flung the accusation, wanting to let it go, but she couldn't forget the image of his wings. A man of his passion, and it wasn't fair! He could only be with one woman, so why was he here? The magick pressed on her chest, choking her.
"Belle! I've never—
"he stuttered, “I mean, this is the first time...” He shook his head and leaned against the bell. She felt the turmoil of emotion through his touch. His pain was like a punch in the stomach and she put it away to analyze later. When he wasn't looking like he wanted to be swallowed up by the earth.
"I don't want you here.” She trembled at the lie. Couldn't he feel the swirl of magick in the bell? What was happening?
His face drained of all color. “I don't even know why I'm here."
Magick flung through them, exploding through the bell like a tear. She felt it to the marrow of her bones.
B-O-O-O-NG!
The bell's resounding hum shook them both so hard they were holding one another up. It took a moment for her to realize what happened. The magick was gone. The magick had rung the bell.
"Oh no.” She stumbled away from him. Shock and a sense of world loss surrounded her. Something very wrong just happened. What would she find? Her grandmother had warned her. Oh goddess. Her mind spun in a whirlwind of terror. Roarke grabbed her hand and squeezed, providing some comfort. They walked out of the bell and beheld the world.
A blue-gray haze covered everything but the bell and themselves.
"What do your senses tell you, Belle?” Roarke's quiet question echoed in the emptiness of the grove.
Belle inhaled slowly, absorbing scents of the Earth, as Fae were wont to do. It smelled wrong. “I don't smell anything."
"That's why I asked, Belle. I don't smell anything either.” His voice trembled. “I can't touch the magick of the Earth, Belle."
She squeezed his hand and couldn't do any more. Despair brought tears to her eyes. “Who would do this?"
"No one touched the bell, did they?"
Belle jerked her head in response. “No, I would have felt their touch. It's the nature of the keeper."
"Ahhh,” Roarke said quietly. “That explains a lot."
Belle worked to bring her normal humor to the surface. “Surely the High Council was spar
ed, right? I mean, the Goddess wouldn't leave us to save the world.” Her laugh was rough.
Roarke shrugged a shoulder and brought his wings into existence. Belle automatically averted her eyes, both in respect and out of a small amount of shame. Was it her selfish wish that brought the bell's terrible enchantment.
"What cataclysmic event was the bell supposed to create?” His question sounded strained to her sensitive ears.
Belle raised her eyes and followed the line of his gaze. A gasp of horror escaped before she could stop it. Her heart froze in pain. “The city, Roarke. The city! All the humans.” Her broken cry sounded like it came from someone else.
Blood roared in her ears and she fell to her knees. The world was covered in the same haze as the ground surrounding the Christmas Bell. All the humans, all the world.
"Belle!” Roarke dropped to the ground with her as her knees gave out when the full impact of what she'd done hit her. Roarke had her by the arms and was giving her a light shake. From far away she heard him saying something, but couldn't work up more than a nod. She wanted to turn from the concern in his eyes and crawl into a hole. Belle had failed her lineage.
She shoved away from him and waved her wings into existence. With a lunge she and flew around the bell, looking at the reflection of the idiot who'd destroyed the world. Good going Belle.
She flew to the city.
"Stay here! Stay here, Belle! We don't know what caused the enchantment. Don't touch anything!” His yell grated and she flew harder, almost missing the curse that dropped from his lips. She gave a dark chuckle at Roarke's loss of temper. At least she wasn't alone. Tears welled up in her eyes and a band of pain around her heart formed.
Belle fluttered through the Christmas crowds. They were frozen. All of them. Cold as ice, frozen by magick. She gasped and touched each face, none of them responding. It's all my fault. Oh Goddess.
A little boy caught her attention. His mother was grasping his hand and he was reaching for someone, tears forever frozen on his cherubic face. She fluttered to his nose and tried to use the silk of her dress to wipe his cheeks. Nothing she did could pierce the magickal barrier.
She cursed as the first tears fell from her eyes and flipped midair in irritation, letting the frigid wind freeze the streams of liquid on her face. She welcomed the pain, and let it consume her. One stupid, easy thing to do and she screwed it up. The band around her heart tightened. One simple task. She would save the boy, even if it drained her of every last ounce of Faerie magick.
She screamed, beating her fists against the tears on the boy's face, using all the magick in her soul to try and bring the little one back. Tears ran down her face and she let them fall. The little one's face would be frozen in sadness forever. Horror at what she'd let happen squeezed her heart. Her breaths came in wracking sobs and she fell to his scarf, crying against his cheek.
She curled up in a ball and wished for this to be a bad dream.
Chapter Three
Roarke appeared in the council chamber unannounced. He expected a scalding reprimand for breaking protocol. Hoped for it. What he found destroyed all of his hope. They were frozen, completely in the middle of a session. What kind of magick could destroy the Fae? Belle's sweet face flashed in his mind. Even in fury she was beautiful. If something happened to her ... he shoved that pain away to a part of his heart he'd analyze later. Right now, he needed to get to Belle.
He reappeared next to the bell and raced to the city.
Roarke searched desperately for Belle. His mind raced in a whirlwind. The rest of the Fae were frozen solid and he needed to find her. His stomach roiled in fear that he'd find Belle the same way, frozen for eternity. Pain ripped through his heart, squeezing it in a vice at the thought of losing her warmth and smile. A statue. He roared his pain and heard it echo through the frozen Earth. Goddess, please don't let me be alone for eternity.
A flicker of color caught his eye from below. He darted to the city proper. A ray of hope pierced his pain when he saw it again. Glitter against a frozen sun. He raced through the air and saw her, Belle, curled up in a ball against the cheek of a little human boy. The child had been crying.
Her wings fluttered and he could see her shoulders shudder in what he assumed were tears. “Belle.” He cleared his throat, landed next to her, and with a tentative curse, touched her shoulder.
She raised tear-stained eyes and gave him an empty emotionless smile. “You can touch them, you know.” Her voice droned in a monotone. She caressed the boy's cheek. “It won't hurt us."
"How can you know that, Belle?” He fisted his hands and waited for the panic to leave him. Belle wasn't acting normal. Right now, he needed something normal.
"This is my fault, Roarke. My punishment.” Her face crumpled in pain and she dropped her face back in the crook of her arm. She mumbled something unintelligible.
"Belle.” He gripped her arm, wishing she'd look at him.
"I said, leave me alone!” She jerked out of his touch and glared at him. “This is my fault.” She threw her arms out to encompass the world around them. “All of this, because I was stupid."
Roarke rocked back on his heels. “What makes you think you caused this?"
"I was in the bell, Roarke. Weren't you there with me? I made a vow to you.” She glared at him. “Remember?"
Oh yes, he remembered, and right now he cursed the pride that had forced him to give her the ultimatum.
"I broke my word, Roarke, because I wanted to—
"she avoided his gaze.
"Wanted to what? Kiss me?"
Belle's laugh reminded him of dried leaves blowing in the wind. “I wanted to do a lot more than kiss you, Roarke."
Warmth spread through his body. “I was starting think I was the only one.” Her half smile was a move in the right direction. “You weren't stupid, little Fae, any more than I was."
She curled her lip, her eyes dead of all emotion. “Leave me alone in my misery. I've destroyed the world."
Her bitter words broke his heart. “Hey.” He pulled her into his arms and shook her. “Dammit, we can figure this out. And I need you to pull it together!” He fought against the raging need to kiss her senseless and let them both forget about all of this.
"What about the council?"
"Frozen."
Her expression likely mirrored his own only an hour earlier.
"We can't beat an enchantment like this.” Her quiet whisper sounded remarkably much like the one in his mind.
"Maybe not, but we can solve the puzzle. If we can figure out the trigger, we may be able to trace it back and reverse it."
"What do you want me to do? It's not like there's a manual on this stuff!"
Roarke's mind spun in a different direction. An inkling of a plan formed in his mind. “No, but there is a manual on the misuse of Faerie magick."
Belle gave him a look of irritation. “How will that help?"
"We obviously cast a spell or curse of some type. If we can figure out what we did wrong...” He pulled his reading glasses out of the ether and called his misuse of magick manual from his desk at home. “I refuse to believe kissing you caused the end of the world, Belle.” It appeared in the air, unenchanted. Thank the Goddess. For just a moment he'd been afraid ... he glanced at Belle and froze. Her expression was intense and focused on his face, the beauty in her eyes startling in their depths. “What is it?” he asked, breathless.
"You,” she coughed and dropped her gaze, the silver of her lashes fanning her pink cheeks looked like snowflakes. “You look very nice in glasses."
Heat spread over Roarke's body like a caress.
"Let's go to the tree over there and settle in. This may take a while."
A small smile touched her lips before being swallowed by her pain. He'd give anything at that moment to bring that smile back. She nodded and they flew, his book trailing behind them in the air current. At least the wind hadn't stopped blowing.
She fluttered to a broad branch and sat,
cross-legged, pulling a musical pipe from the bag over her shoulder. He settled down, leaning against the thick wall of trunk. Roarke opened the book and the sweetest trill of music he'd ever heard tickled his ears. He glanced up and watched Belle adjust her fingers over the pipe, bringing the music to life around him. She nodded her head and closed her eyes, lost in the music.
Roarke watched her pain melt away in the joy of the notes she brought forth. It calmed them both and he grinned, stretching out his legs for a long read, determined to find the cure.
Chapter Four
Belle didn't know how long she sat there playing for Roarke, but her fingers were stiffening. The sun's light stayed muted, stuck in the same position for eternity. Her wings drooped in exhaustion, and she glanced at the Fae sitting beside her. He tossed her emotions into turmoil by just a glance. Stuffy, irritable, and anti-social had been ways she described him before today.
Now he was passionate, and forgiving. And he needed glasses. No Fae needed glasses. Peculiar man. His glasses gave him a distinguished air, but who ever heard of a Faerie with glasses? There were so many things about Roarke that puzzled her. Like the way he kissed. She shivered delicately and bit her tongue to keep from licking her lips like a cat at a feast.
Roarke's brows were drawn into deep lines of concentration. His breath came in frustrated sighs but the pure power of his gaze was unbelievable. Another page turned and he uncrossed and re-crossed his ankles.
It was time to tell the truth. “I was watching you bathe in the spring.” Belle set the pipe down in her lap.
Roarke paused mid-turn of a page and looked up over the rim of his wire-rimmed glasses. His violet eyes flickered in wary acceptance. “I know.” His half smile made her heart do a little dance.
Belle shifted, uncomfortably aware of how easily Roarke seduced her senses. She bit her lip, and couldn't believe how easy it was to be herself. It was ... empowering. “Why did you do it?” She blushed to the roots of her hair. “I mean, why did you let me see everything?"
He closed the book and took off his glasses. With gentle care he folded them up and slipped them and the book back into the ether. The weight of his gaze was a tight band around her heart. “You ask a very complicated question, but I'll try to answer."
Babes in Toyland II Page 22