SeductivePersuasion

by Frances Stockton

  “Easy there, witch, we wouldn’t want you to become too ill to stand trial,” a voice warned, sounding like Sedgewick Haywood.

  Groaning, Aisley swallowed and sat up much more slowly. “Where am I?” Gingerly, she touched the back of her head. Something warm and damp clung to her fingers and she jerked her hand away, wincing as she did.

  “Far from Danford, to be certain,” Sedgewick said, laughing merrily.

  “Are you mad? The moment my betrothed learns I’ve gone missing, he will come find me.”

  “That should be the least of your worries,” another man said, the deeper voice chilling her to the bones. She recognized it in an instant. “Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

  “Most certainly, my husband, given she’s stolen my child,” Edwina, the woman from the well, replied.

  Ignoring the wetness on her fingers, Aisley tried to look about the dense brush. The brightness of the fire kept her from seeing far beyond the makeshift camp. There were two dark figures standing behind Haywood.

  “Edwina, I recognize your voice,” Aisley said. “I assure you, I’ll never believe you to be Angelica’s mother now.”

  “John, would you tell this woman to stop calling my daughter Angelica?” Edwina asked.

  “You heard my wife, healer.” John Brewster, the man Aisley knew to be Zotikos, stepped into the campsite. “The girl’s name is Merry.”

  As he’d been in the tavern, he was dressed in the finery of a wealthy man. His manner was arrogant, his arm about Edwina’s waist controlling, his smile looked lethal. This man meant her harm and his intentions had nothing to do with Angelica.

  “She’s being raised by a witch. We cannot permit that to continue, can we, darling?” Edwina asked.

  “I’m not a witch,” Aisley protested. “The Earl of Danford will protect me from your lies and see that the three of you answer for what you’ve done.” Aisley felt calmer when thinking of Garrick. She hadn’t any doubts about his ability to find her.

  “What have we done?” Zotikos asked, escorting his wife to a log close to the fire and aiding her to sit.

  “You know the answer,” Aisley replied. A bout of sickness loomed, forcing her to swallowing hard. “It will not work, you know? Marrying a woman who claims to be Angelica’s mother isn’t going to endear you to Lord Danford. He adores Angelica. He’ll not permit you to harm her.”

  “Witchcraft is evil, you must account for your wickedness,” Sedgewick interrupted. Using a long twig, he poked the fire’s ashes, his eyes on the flames. “We know you can converse with the Earl without saying a word aloud. What else can you do? Have you a favorite spell?”

  “I know nothing of what you speak,” Aisley said.

  “She commands a beast,” Zotikos claimed. “It’s a leopard, a black one.”

  “I’ve seen what wolves can do to a village. I’d not known there were leopards in England,” Sedgewick replied, looking frightened. “Are they like lions?”

  Zotikos bowed his head slightly. “They’re related to lions, or so I’m told. Some call them panthers,” he said.

  “Surely a black panther must be possessed of the devil,” Sedgewick accused, spitting into the fire.

  “I do not command beasts or anything evil.” Aisley touched the back of her head, feeling blood. The blood wasn’t drying, it was getting worse.

  “Don’t you, healer?” Zotikos questioned, his face made ugly by the eerie cast of firelight flickering back and forth. “When we’d met in Fernley, I heard the beast follow you into the woods. Did he catch you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Inwardly, she’d known Sir Knight had chased her, yet it was Garrick who’d stepped around the tree.

  “I think you lie,” Zotikos accused. “Witches are known for their lies.”

  “Cease, no more, please. Help me or let me go,” she pled.

  “We cannot help one who refuses to admit to her wickedness,” Sedgewick claimed.

  Whatever Aisley wanted to say was quelled behind the sadness that warred with the pain throbbing in her head. Uncertainty and fear made matters worse, making her wish to be with Garrick again. He made her feel safe. He would protect Angelica and set everything to rights.

  She didn’t know if Garrick was capable of changing into a leopard, but she believed he was capable of being a good husband and father. If he came for her or if she found a way to escape, she vowed to listen to him. She would try to believe. Mayhap he really was far more than human, just as he claimed.

  Though it pounded mercilessly, her head told her a man couldn’t be more than four hundred years old, nor could he change into another being. Her heart, however, compared him to Sir Knight. They had the same eyes, the same dark brown hair and defined, regal features. Both smelled of cinnamon and musk. Was it possible?

  “Look, she grows quiet,” Edwina said, her words spoken slowly. “She calls for her lover. It is good that we took her away from him. She will answer for her deeds.”

  “I’ve called to no one,” Aisley whispered. “Leave me be. I’ve done nothing to any of you. All I did was save an adorable little girl.”

  “I’m her mother,” Edwina shouted. “You’ve been raising her to be a…a witch. My husband will have you executed and Merry will be mine again. Mayhap the Church can save her soul.”

  “How dare you!” Alarmed for Angelica, Aisley lunged for Edwina. The bitter fluid of choler burned her throat, causing her to fall to her hands and knees, one hand finding the hot ash of the fire.

  “Agh!” she screamed. Plucking her hand from further harm, she fell to the ground and emptied her stomach until there was nothing left inside of her. By the time Aisley sat up, her hand was hurting worse than her head. Her throat felt scorched by the choler, her tongue tasted bitter.

  “Can I have some aid, a bandage, mayhap?” Aisley attempted to regain her composure, but she smelled vile and felt as if she’d purge again.

  “Why should we help the condemned?” Sedgewick sneered.

  “You almost died by the Earl of Danford’s hand. I saved you, remember?”

  “A mark in your favor, I grant you,” Sedgewick said, sounding as pompous as he had the night they’d met. “I warned you not to touch what was mine. Now you know what will happen for defying me.”

  “You’re angry because you cannot earn a halfpenny without Angelica,” Aisley replied.

  “I’ve been eating like a Lord of the Realm and sleeping in houses as elegant as Danford’s. I don’t need halfpennies.”

  “With Zotikos’ coin, no doubt,” Aisley said.

  “Who?” Sedgewick asked.

  “The man you call John Brewster. You shouldn’t trust him just because he offers you good food and a place to sleep. Evil can mask itself with wealth and charm.”

  “As beauty can,” Sedgewick countered. “You’ve a pretty face, regardless of your spots and witch’s mark. It is little wonder why a man like Danford chose you.”

  “It’s a tiny birthmark. The spots are freckles, nothing more.”

  Falling silent, she tried not to look at Zotikos for any length of time. Vaguely, she remembered Garrick teaching her how to defend herself against his enemy. Unfortunately, her hand stung and her head wouldn’t cease pounding. Her hair was heavy and wet with blood and she was scared witless.

  “Could I at least get a cloth for my head?” she requested. “My hand can wait.” Even though it couldn’t, she wanted to distract her captors.

  “She’s right,” Zotikos decided, surprising Aisley. “Edwina, go and find something from our bedding.”

  “As you command,” Edwina said.

  Aisley watched Edwina walk into the brush with a stiffness that suggested her inability to do nothing other than what she was told.

  “Obedient little thing,” she murmured to herself.

  “I ask and she does,” Zotikos said, proving he’d heard. “Isn’t that right, Sedgewick?”

  “Aye, milord, you’ve a dutiful wife. I wonder if the healer would have been the s
ame for Danford.”

  “Cease, my betrothed is coming for me. I know it,” Aisley insisted.

  Zotikos leaned closer to the fire, the flames appearing to part as smoke floated upward. “You assume he even knows to search for you. His squire may not have awakened yet. It is possible that he didn’t awaken at all.”

  Groaning with alarm and sickness, Aisley closed her eyes against the image of Valiant’s prone body.

  What a fool she’d been to follow where a stranger led. Garrick had warned of the danger, yet she’d failed to take heed.

  “If Valiant is dead his father will kill you, Zotikos.”

  “Are you mad? The man before you is John Brewster,” Sedgewick scolded. “Threatening him is foolish when your life is at stake.” He chuckled at that and pointed to the fire.

  “You needn’t defend me,” Zotikos interrupted. “Why don’t you go and see where my wife has gone?”

  Sedgewick nodded and stalked off in the same manner as Edwina.

  “Healer, many have tried to kill me. I always return, in one form or another,” Zotikos replied with an evil leer, his face glowing red from the flames around him.

  Sedgewick and Edwina might be fooled into believing he was John Brewster, a wealthy gentleman, but everything in her warned that she was looking at the face of evil.

  “It doesn’t take much to return or stay among those who may initially be reluctant to trust me. Promise vengeance, coin, luxuries unimaginable and I am accepted. Thus far I’ve become a confidant, a friend, a lover, a noble and warrior. Whatever the need, I provide.” He looked at her then, his smile as chilling as winter. “I can provide for you, healer. You only need to join me and I will protect you for life.”

  Unknowingly, Zotikos had given Aisley the hope of escape. “I want nothing from you.”

  “You don’t want the things I can give you? You will need them to live.”

  “I want you to leave, Zotikos,” Aisley said, spying the stricken look on his face.

  He pushed to his feet, his arms across his chest, his purple clothing lending an air of such falseness it was a wonder Edwina and Sedgewick didn’t smell it. Firelight revealed the thinness of the silk, the mended patterns and frayed edges. He had become very good at making people think he had money. He smelled like sweat and costly fragrance.

  “You haven’t any idea whom you’re dealing with,” Zotikos finally spoke, his voice garbled with menace. “You will do as I say, just as my minions do.”

  “Go away, I command you,” Aisley hissed, ignoring the sharp pain in her head and hand.

  “If I go, your wounds will attract animals. Your hand is burnt. The skin is blistered and peeling off. As a healer, you know what that means. You stink of choler. Blood is seeping from your head. Fresh blood, dare I say. I’m good with a needle. I can stitch the wound and wrap your hand if you’d like. Of course, you must permit me.”

  Ignoring the temptation of being mended, Aisley refused. “Nay, I say to you, nay. Go from me, far, far away. Take your wife and Sedgewick and go.”

  If she weren’t in pain Aisley might have laughed at the strangled moan emanating from Zotikos’ throat. He was scared. She had rendered him speechless and his eyes were cast downward.

  “I give you one last warning, healer,” Zotikos sneered toward the ground, backing up. “Should I leave, I’ll not remain quiet for long. I’ll return and bring you to your knees. All you need do to halt any trouble befalling you or Danford is to join me of your own accord.”

  Aisley wasn’t certain what to do or say. He wouldn’t look upon her and darkness had surrounded him when he stepped back.

  “Never,” she claimed. “You don’t scare me any more. I know how to be rid of you.”

  “Do you.” Zotikos snickered, a strange sound coming from a man who wouldn’t, or couldn’t, move closer to the fire. “I know what Garrick Forrester is. He is both man and beast. His kind and mine have been at war since before history was recorded by man. Should I need to, I will expose his evil. Charges of heresy will damn him to Hell.”

  “Nay, nay,” she said, shivering. “Garrick Forrester is stronger than you. Be gone.”

  “You’ve sealed your demise and his,” he forewarned, turning from the fire and stalking into the woods.

  “You’re letting her go?” Edwina shrieked a moment later. “What of the child? She’s ours. You promised she’d come live with me again.”

  “You needn’t fear,” Zotikos soothed from a slight distance. “I’ve decided to leave the healer to the wolves. The animals can have the likes of her.”

  Fearing he’d return, Aisley managed to stand and withdraw from the fire. Zotikos had said his kind were like Garrick’s. Could he change form?

  Regardless of what awaited her in the forest, Aisley stumbled forward, her dizziness remaining with each step she took. Looking back briefly, she saw the dim light of the fire and tried to rush on. With a dull thump, she collided with a hard, aged tree and fell back.

  On her bottom, aching and scared, Aisley stared upward, catching a blurred glimpse of the full moon. Garrick had said it was easiest to change during the full moon. Had he done so tonight? She hadn’t a doubt he’d come for her if he knew of her plight, and somehow she knew he did. Would he come in the form of Sir Knight or himself?

  “I believe him,” Aisley whispered. “Pray forgive me, Garrick, and know I’ll listen the next time we’re together.” If they were together, she thought, grimacing against the pain.

  Thinking of Garrick, Aisley struggled to her feet and limped on. From a distance she heard a deep-voiced command. A frightening howl followed. The lonely sound was joined by another and another.

  “Please, Garrick, now would be a good time to hear your voice,” Aisley prayed, remembering that she hadn’t heard his roar since she awoke in his arms earlier that morn. She would have loved to hear it again. She’d love to hear anything that would quell the howling.

  She tried to flee, stumbled a time or two, but made amazing strides considering she hadn’t any idea where she was. She’d lost the light of the moon, hidden now by the density of the forest, and darkness set in all around.

  And the howling, from the left to the right, from behind and ahead of her, continued. Eerie, threatening and very, very near. Her eyesight had adjusted slightly to the darkness, but the path was blurry.

  Suddenly, a scurry in the brush ahead brought her to a halt. Whatever had scurried by had been large and dark. It was then she realized the howling had stopped. Mayhap the wolves had gone away or something chased them away?

  “Garrick?” she called out.

  Her answer came in the form of a low, menacing bawling. A large black wolf emerged from the brush. Though she could barely see it, she imagined its teeth were bared. The baying continued and more wolves joined the leader until she was surrounded.

  “Easy,” she said, quietly, hoping to calm the closest, smallest wolf. “I’ll not hurt you. Easy there.”

  Fighting her fear, Aisley stood still. Bolting would only make them chase her and she wasn’t fast enough to get away from a whole pack of wolves.

  “Don’t,” she begged, screaming in earnest when the biggest wolf lunged.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Garrick followed the trail of Aisley’s blood, almond oil, ambergris and the pungent smell of male and female sweat until he detected wood smoke.

  In leopard form, he bounded in the direction of the smoke. Her almond scent grew stronger as he went, but Aisley was gone before he came upon the encampment. Zotikos, a woman and a sweating Sedgewick Haywood had gone off without Aisley, leaving her vulnerable from injury.

  His lion companion, Lucien, stalked the path Zotikos and his followers had taken, allowing Garrick to search for his mate alone.

  Aisley, hear me, he called to her with the strength of his thoughts, believing she wasn’t too far from the camp.

  Scenting her blood-tainted almond path, Garrick leapt in the direction she’d gone. He’d just crossed a fallen tree
when the odor of wolves reached him. Urgently, he surged toward the pack’s scent when he heard them howl.

  “Garrick, I need you!” he heard Aisley cry, her fear slicing through his gut, tearing his world asunder.

  I’m coming, little one, he tried to assure.

  It was hardest to speak with one’s mate while turned and his concentration had to remain on reaching her quickly. Aisley’s screams continued to send chills down his spine.

  Her abrupt silence terrified him.

  With one last charge, Garrick came upon Aisley and the pack of wolves. He slashed through the pack, giving little notice to the discarded beasts in his path.

  Only one wolf remained. The pack leader gave warning as it lifted its face from Aisley’s neck and snarled. The wolf’s only thoughts were to guard its prey and to eat. Garrick’s was to kill. Like the predator he was, he struck and flung the beast’s lifeless body away.

  Aisley, hear me.

  Wanting to change, but fearing she’d be left alone too long or that the change would harm her further, Garrick nudged Aisley’s limp form. He smelled her blood, the sourness of sickness and heard her heartbeat. Though it was weak, it continued, giving him hope.

  Open your eyes. The wolves have gone, he said, gently nuzzling her shoulder.

  Aisley’s quiet groan reached him. “Garrick…you came for me.”

  I could do nothing less.

  “Garrick, she has too many wounds for us to move her safely. You know what you must do,” Lucien warned in human form.

  Garrick couldn’t speak aloud to Lucien. He looked only at his mate If you hear me, nod, Aisley.

  She nodded, opening her eyes slowly. “I…can…hear. Wolves, they attacked. He let me go and sent them to attack me.”

  “Remain still while we look at you,” Lucien instructed, kneeling beside them. “She needs your essence, Garrick.”

  Garrick knew Lucien was right. Aisley had been bitten and torn, her head wound was gaping open and bleeding and her hand was burnt. His stomach lurched and he shook his head. He had seen the degradation of war and bloodshed countless times before. But if he was in his human form at that moment, he might have become ill at the sight of the woman he loved covered in blood and saliva.