by Lyn Brittan
“Oh come on, Cara. I merely melted the metal.”
“That’s called breaking and entering. It’s a felony around here!”
“Do not judge me, Fanchon. This is what we alchemists do. I will take care to fix it on the way out.” Probably. Luca made his way over to her sofa and propped up both legs as if he owned it. Well why not? In a few weeks, he would.
“I didn’t give you permission to sit, and my name is Fanchon Marie, not Fanchon.”
“I chose not to point out your obvious rudeness, but since you insist no, you did not. And yes, I forgive you.” The look of shock on her faced morphed into a hideous snarl of anger. Kind of cute. “Now, come sit, we need to talk.”
****
The synapses in Fanchon Marie’s brain struggled to get the connections on the move again, but she stayed stuck in disbelief. This (mighty beautiful) idiot destroyed her door, walked into her house, flopped down on her couch, and this?
“We have been talking, Luca. Or do I need to show you the million text messages you’ve sent?”
“It is the only way you choose to respond for some reason and I—”
“For some reason?” Reason? “The reason, jerkface, is that I don’t want to marry you and—”
“You never have. Sit down. Do not cut me off again.”
Whoa. Did that really just happen? Fanchon Marie sat but not due to his direction. Time to rest up and plan out her strategy. This guy needed to go down.
Of course she’d known about the marriage and the reasons behind it. This was to be the union of two of the most powerful clans in the world. As for the arranged part? Eh, not good, but both of their families had done it for generations as far back as anyone could go. Even Fanchon Marie’s siblings had been in for it, though they all came to love their intendeds. Mostly.
And this was hers. She curled into the recliner across from him, not to listen, but to figure out what to do. In the looks department this man was a king, a god, and everything in between. Shoulder length brown hair and those powerful, mesmerizing eyes. She’d always loved that about him. Well, those and his pouty Roman lips. Damn! He’d claimed descent from the last Etruscan – those lusty early inhabitants of Rome – and if those lips were any indication, he’d done his forefathers proud.
“Are you listening to me?”
If he could only move those lips without words coming out.
“Fanchon Marie?”
Ohhhh yeah, lick those lips, boy.
“Fanchon Marie!” Then a softer, more playful recitation of her name. “Fanchon Marie, Cara, do you find yourself fascinated by my lips?
Totally busted. “No, I, do, not.” She punctuated each word.
“Are you sure?” She tried to answer, but then he licked his lips again. Luca rose from the sofa to cover the distance between the two of them. He moved fast. “I have been told that they taste as good as they look. I wonder, do yours?”
Millimeters separated their lips. With every other word, his mouth grazed hers, sending hot lines of magic and lust through her body. “You don’t have to love me, but can’t we at least have this?”
He didn’t give her time to think, let alone answer. In the next moment, his mouth covered hers and explored its depths with his tongue. Long live the freaking Etruscans!
Luca pinned her to the chair then boxed her in with his arms. If she had wanted to get up, she wouldn’t have been able to. Strong if.
Instead, she stayed trapped beneath his lips, dizzy while his hands laid hot tracks of lava up and down her spine. Possessive arms tightened around her waist, lifted her up off the velvety red cushion, and brought her closer to him.
“Things can be good between us. You only have to allow it to happen, honey.”
Why did words have to pass those lips? It snapped her back to reality faster than spilled salt and a cut line. “Stop. Just, get off.”
“Cara mia, that is exactly what I mean to accomplish here.”
Fanchon Marie bit back a smile while he tried to drag them both to the floor. “No, Luca. We need to talk.”
“There has been a rather serious lack of communication for years, thanks to you. Now all of sudden you want to have a conversation? Fine.” Luca sat on the floor and placed his arms on his knees and his head in his hands. “If we don’t marry, there will be war between the Roma and the Vodou people. No matter how we try to end it, one side will blame the other. Can you at least agree that is true?”
She could. But wouldn’t.
Luca unfurled long fingers and ticked things off. “Two, in case you have not already noticed, the magic is...off...in the city. Something is not right, and it reeks of Besnik Morlena and his clan.”
“Is that why you upped my bodyguards?”
Luca nodded, and she noticed a look of genuine concern, but not fear. No, whatever it was, Luca intended to handle it. Still.... “Tell me. Something else is happening.”
“The Pushrats are leaving the city. There are whispers of an upcoming Roma war that they want no part of.” She knew enough to be concerned. Pushrats were the half-Roma, half-gadjé who had no true allegiance to any clan, beyond their own families. When they left the proverbial building, it was time for everyone to roll out. By the time the gadjé, or non-Roma, started to leave, it would be way too late.
“Third, this IS my new domain. I must have someone with the blood of the land in their veins. That is you, Fanchon Marie. We will be good together, in time. However, if after our first child you want nothing to do with me, then I’ll let you go.”
“Really?”
“No. It seemed like the right thing to say.”
“Luca—”
“It is time to stop running from me and time to fight. For me. With me. Something bad is coming, and I know you can feel it, too.”
Fanchon Marie nodded. “Whatever is happening has been on the rise for months.” It happened so slowly that she almost didn’t notice it. It started like a tsunami, unhurried, and with only the smallest of ripples at its beginning. “Something dark is seeping into the earth. The trees, the ground, everything is raw with it.” Only her private garden held on to its beauty. Others had long fallen, beaten until the flowers and trees hung down like drained power lines after a great hurricane. Luca interrupted her thoughts with a jump to his feet. His face had grown red and twisted. The dark glower went all the way down into the “V” of his shirt. Veins visibly strained beneath the skin of his throat and biceps. “Luca, what’s wrong?”
“Which other Roma have been here?”
“As a rule I try not to have too many in my—”
“Save the insults. Who else has been in your home, Fanchon Marie?” Luca sniffed the air, as if he’d been born part dog. Maybe he was. He sure as hell growled like one. “Stronzo! There is Roma magic here. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I assumed it was yours.”
“Do not assume anything!” The arrogant prick shouted at her like she’d been a misbehaving child. “Despite what you may think, not all Roma magic is unclean. However, this is beyond marimé. It is filthy.”
Fanchon Marie felt a massive hand clasp around her shoulder. “Come with me, you cannot stay here.”
“Uh, sorry. This is my home.” She tried to step away from him, but his grip only tightened.
“Not anymore. This place is not safe.”
“But, well, wait a minute.” He couldn’t possibly expect her to drop everything and leave. “If I agree to go.” She chose to ignore his rolling eyes. “I’ll need time to pack up. I mean—”
“The spell here is a seeing enchantment. Someone has been watching you. Probably watching us right now.”
“Oh, my god.” Fanchon Marie’s bravado crashed down in an inglorious heap. She shook violently at the thought of the violation. Someone watching her sleep, shower, laugh, and cry. Everything she’d done since - Lord, she couldn’t remember when she first felt it. Her stomach twisted at the intrusion. She ran for the bathroom, fell to her knees, and clutched the open
toilet.
After leaning over and vomiting into the receptacle, warm hands ran across the base of her neck and pulled her long black hair out of the way. “I will fix this. I will.” Luca said. “I promise to make the last moments of Breznik’s life, wonderfully painful and excruciatingly unpleasant.”
Lord, she didn’t want to, but Fanchon Marie crashed into Luca and sobbed into his shoulder. “I want to leave. Now.”
She didn’t fight it when he lifted her out of the bathroom, cradled in his arms like a newborn baby. “My things?”
“I’ll buy you new things.”
“But—”
“But, another man’s magic is on them and until they have been purified, I cannot trust anything in this house other than you.”
Trust?
“And your bodyguards outside?”
“Oh no. Love, their heads will roll, too.”
Love?
Chapter Four
The ride over to his palatial estate had been cloaked in silence. Mostly. His little Vodou princess could not seem to make it inside the car without at least one snarky remark. Her chosen target? The personalized license plate on his custom made Rolls Royce: vardo. The car though, was custom for a reason. As a new ruler in an old city with not everyone on board with his ascendency, five-inch windows, tires that ran flat, and double reinforced gas tanks were more necessity than luxury. Beyond her initial comment though, nothing. She seemed as lost in her own world as he was in his. And though he had a range of things to think about, they all centered around her.
Inches away from him sat the key. The linchpin to ensure everything he wanted was within reach together. The city, the power, the future. All of it wrapped up in a tiny five-foot shot of coffee with crème.
“Don’t stare. It’s rude.”
“Rom Baro.
“And?”
“And, that should remind you that nothing I do is rude. It is an impossibility.” He sagged back in the seat and cracked his knuckles above the steering wheel. “In fact, the only people who I deign to are my parents and let us be honest, my love, they are not around.”
Fanchon Marie huffed and cocked her head to stare out the window. That worked for him – it presented another angle of her to stare at. Yes, she was fine to stare at. Beautiful with huge brown eyes and jet black hair he’d love to dive right into and pull at the most opportune of moments. Her scream ended the eye fest.
“Luca! Watch where the hell you’re going!”
Swerving against the curve, Luca released the break, grabbed the gear shift, and hexed the metal in the other automobile into doing the same. Once he brought the car to a stop, he rolled down the window to ease out a more permanent hex, this one to force the other driver to forget the entire event. There was a pop of cobalt light that whizzed from his finger and into the air. Like the iridescent blue of a blow fly, and of a similar speed, the light flew into the opposite car and disappeared. Luca chuckled despite the situation. The best thing about normal people was their porous minds.
He, however, wouldn’t be so lucky to forget. “You all right, Fanchon Marie?”
“Sure! For someone who was nearly killed! What’s the matter with you? It’s bad enough I’ve got some crazy gyps– Sorry.” She looked genuinely contrite. “Some Roma fool out there spying on me, maybe plotting to kill me, but hell, maybe you should save him the effort!”
How cute. Spunk, he liked it. Another time he would have been impressed or turned on. She spoke the truth. He had almost killed them both.
Again, the tiny thing drew his complete attention. In her home, Luca had been so wrapped up in her that he hadn’t noticed the Morlena magic tucked between layers and layers of numina until several minutes passed. Minutes during which the two talked and revealed information with the bastards that he’d rather not share. And he’d nearly taken them both out for the same reason. She broke his concentration. Fanchon Marie was in his freaking blood. He needed to get her out of his system...he needed to take away the enigma of not having what he wanted and replace it was something he knew he owned.
“What are you grinning about, Luca?”
He spoke above a whisper. “Nothing but the thought of taking you to bed.” Imagine that it may well be my only chance of getting a clear head. Remembering I have to get some pipes clean.
“What are you mumbling over there?”
“Nothing. Let’s go home.”
****
Home.
He’d said it like she belonged there. As the car pulled into the massive driveway, she kinda sorta wished she did. Huge Gothic spires overlooked the city. They jutted into the sky, piercing the blue like a collection of decorative hairpins coming out of a jar. As for the indoors. well, equally whoa.
“Humble little cottage you’ve got here. First the vardo, now this?”
“It suits my needs.”
Yeah, well, the gold inlay in the walls suited hers, too. Still, who lived in an old church? “You don’t seem the monastery type.”
Luca’s laughs rumbled deep from his chest. It almost didn’t annoy her this time. “Don’t be surprised at how devoted we Roma can be. More importantly, this place is full of old magic. Good and hearty. The strength of pure faith lingers.” Luca walked over to the stairwell. “Follow me to my study. I shall give the servants a call to get things moving.”
Fanchon Marie did as requested in silence. Not because she necessarily wanted to -- more an effort to keep her jaw off the floor.
It was one thing to be wealthy. She was. Really, all the great magical families rolled in cash, but it was another thing to be mind-blowingly, disgustingly rich. Each golden archway led to another room of floor to ceiling mirrors and arches. Repulsive and beautiful.
Then there was his family’s crest. A miniature version showed up on her skin after she’d first put on the betrothal ring (she’d hardly call this an engagement). Still, to see it so huge and so – well omnipresent – overwhelmed her. She felt trapped. Again.
“What’s up with the family crests?”
Either he didn’t hear her as he barked out orders on the phone, or he couldn’t be bothered to answer. Whatever. Not a single thing changed the fact that this man was absolutely in love with himself and his family’s seal. Golden eagles entwined with silver wolves popped up at least once on each wall.
Fanchon Marie reached up to touch one. Ensorcelled.
“Added protection.”
Was he a mind reader, too? She shook off that horrible thought and traveled to the farthest wall of the room to stare at two particularly massive wolves mounted on either side of the fireplace. The artistry stunned her. Each canine looked to be in mid-pounce. Plus, the way their tails curled, well, if you put them together, they’d have wrapped themselves around each other.
Fanchon Marie couldn’t help it and bent to take a look.
Yep, one was definitely male…and he looked pissed.
“Your room will be ready after dinner. Someone will fetch clothing and toiletries, and before you start with the harping, yes, I know you would prefer to get them yourself, but it is late. Cara, you are spent, and I intend to fall into my bed after dinner. I will have your things sent for in the morning.”
Pompous jerk. Fanchon Marie considered arguing, but there was a rumble of boulders in her stomach that shut her up right and proper. Ugh, couldn’t the bastard at least have the decency not to smile about it.
“Don’t start.” She walked back to the rear of the room. Subject change, quick. “These wolves over here, they look so real.”
“They should, they are.”
Her fingers ran up one leg. “But they’re gold—”
“And I am an alchemist,” he said as he opened a bottle of wine. Just as casual as asking the time of day, Luca danced on over to his own subject change. “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Come, have a bit of wine with me.” It wasn’t a question.
“But they’re just wolves—”
“No they are not. You are ‘just assumi
ng’ again. White or red?”
“Red.” She couldn’t take her eyes off them. “What are they?”
“Trouble. At least that one is,” he said, and pointed to the one on the right.
“The male?”
Luca’s wicked eyebrow went up, and Fanchon Marie felt the corner of her lips twitch. She shrugged. “I checked.”
“Right. At any rate, the decision has been made to move the wedding forward. It is simply not safe for you anymore.” The look she shot him must have worked. “Perhaps something a bit stronger than wine,” he suggested.
“We who?” She didn’t make any decisions about anything. “No, Mr. Rom Baro, we will not be moving the wedding forward!”
In the same soft and condensing voice he’d used most of the night, he simply said, “That is not an acceptable answer, Fanchon Marie.” He paused only to bring her wine but didn’t retreat. “We’ve discussed why this has to happen. There is no point in rehashing the same argument a thousand times over. This is what our people do. It just is. But if you let me, if you meet me half way, I can make life good for you.”
He leaned in to prove it. Magic lips again. Magic, take away my head and my heart, lips. It killed her that he could make something so simple feel this good. She’d kissed plenty of other men before, but never like this.
Luca’s tongue played in her mouth, exploring and flicking every corner of it. A heat seeking missile surged and retreated in her opening. A thought flittered though of returning the favor. Briefly. Honestly, she was too selfish to care, and this felt too good.
Luca pulled back, but she rose with him, urgent to keep her lips cemented on his. She wasn’t enough.
“Marry me. Tonight.”
Ugh. The jackhole could ruin anything.
“I don’t think—”
“No, Fanchon Marie, do not pull away from me.” His voice dipped low and husky and carried a tinge of command to it. She didn’t care for it. Much.
“Back off or I’ll walk out that door right now.”
“No, you will not.”
“Why is that? You don’t think I want to go? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t waltz out of here. Or are you somehow inferring that you will not let me leave?”