"Mr. Thorn," she said in a strangled voice, "please, I am a married woman. What happened before..."
Marriage! The very notion was laughable. Humans held it in no high esteem. Back when he used to take human lovers, they were almost exclusively married women. The unmarried ones were much less likely to indulge in a tryst. Except for the odd farmer's daughter, all his lovers had been so-called married women. They all balked, but in the end none could resist his charm. Now that he knew he wanted her, he was not willing to let Lady Thornton go. He'd learned one thing about Lady Thornton from their brief acquaintance: she could not be pushed--she required a gentle hand.
He eased back onto his heels, and once he was no longer on top of her, she slid back and rammed her back against the headboard. She was clutching his blanket to her chest as if it would be enough to shield her from him. If I wanted, I could tear that blanket and her gown beneath it and have her until she was screaming my name. It was a tempting thought.
He slid off the bed to give her space; the more freedom he gave her, the more likely she was to trust him. "I did not mean to scare you, Lady Thornton. I was overenthusiastic in my show of gratitude."
She was watching him warily. She had not let go of the blanket.
The effects of the poison were wearing off and with it some of his ardor. His uncontrolled desire was fading, and he saw her in a more neutral light. She was pretty, that much was true, but on a second glance he concluded his momentary madness was due to the poison and no real attraction to the woman. That is for the best; she is off limits to me. His head was pounding, the leaf of the King Oak purged the poison, but it left him feeling depleted and weak.
He turned his back on his guest to retrieve a remedy for the headache. As he moved about the room, he caught the sweet and sensual scent of the poison. It had been removed from his body, but it still clung to Lady Thornton, drawing him towards her with its maddening intensity. It was irresistible. Someone has gone to great lengths to try to kill me. I wonder if I should be flattered. He pulled a few jars down from the shelves and mixed them together, creating a sort of shield to limit the effectiveness of the poison's draw upon him. Of course, nothing would cure him until Lady Thornton was far away from him.
He turned around, prepared to tell her to leave, and found her instead asleep in his bed. He shook his head. Humans are so fragile. I forget sometimes though I have lived side by side with them for years. He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. Her dark hair was fanned out across his pillow. During her adventures it had come undone. Her lips were parted slightly and her breathing was deep and even. A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek, and he pushed it aside. Just the faint brush of skin against hers twisted his gut and stirred his desire. This is dangerous; I am already on thin ice. Take what is not mine, and I will not be forgiven. Whatever spell was on her was powerful. Is someone using her to ruin my plans, or is she doing this and I am playing the unwitting fool?
The sensible part of his brain told him to get away from her now and fast. He had made too many mistakes to risk another. However, the deeper, more animal part of him wanted her. He wanted to tear open her bodice and see what lay beneath all the linen and lace. It has been a long time since I took a human lover. He pulled his hand back, remembering his last human lover. No, I will never lay with their kind again. The council was right to forbid unions with the humans. It always ends badly. His eyes traced over her face. She is not entirely human, though...
He shot to his feet. Thinking like that led to trouble. He paced the room, considering what to do next. He could not leave her to sleep in his bed. Though he was recovering from the poison and his remedies abated some of the effects of being near her, any further contact with her might be enough to kill him. I cannot present her for the test in this state. Though I am happy to see she was able to retrieve the leaf on her own. If she had not been able to... well, I would have been dead, so I suppose I would not have cared. He smiled sardonically at his own musings.
He walked back over to the bed and stared down at her for a moment before walking away again. I should call for someone to bring her back to the manor. But who can I trust? He had few enough allies in the Thorn Court, and if any of them realized who Lady Thornton was, they would take her for their own. I have no choice but to bring her back myself.
Ray pulled the cover out and wrapped her up in it. Then he slid his arms beneath her knees and rested her head on his shoulder. For a moment he inhaled her scent. Feeling her body close to his even through the blanket was enough to intoxicate, and it took all of his self-control to not set her down on the bed and wake her in a very ungentlemanly way. He managed to stumble out the door. The small folk were gathered outside his door, as he feared they would be.
"I am not dead yet, you scavengers!" He kicked at a few that were clinging to his door.
They scampered away, perching in the tree branches overhead. They had assumed disguises to appear less threatening. They pretended to be badgers, birds, and foxes. If you looked close, you would notice something off about the coloring of their coat or a bluebird might have sharp pointed teeth. The combined temptation of his weakened state and Lady Thornton had drawn them out from their hiding places. He had known for some time that they wanted Lady Thornton. They could sense the magic in her as he could. If she had been without magic, the forest would have been closed to her; only the gifted saw the path that led through the Otherworld. Lady Thornton's problem was she did not realize her power, which made her a target. The small folk were always looking for an easy meal and a way to rise up on the food chain.
"She smells divine," the creatures whispered.
"Don't you want just a taste?" another said. They came close enough to brush against his shirt.
He kept moving. Burdened as he was, he could not effectively fight them off. They knew he was weak, and it made them bold.
"A daughter of the Thorns..."
"How sweet..."
"How pretty..."
"Has the Thorn son found a mate?"
He straightened his shoulders and walked on the pathway that would guide him to the forest edge. If he stopped, the small folk would catch up and overpower them. Their taunts were meant to confuse and distract; one step off the pathway and he would be at their mercy.
"We can smell your desire, Ray. We know you want her. Why not have a taste?"
He gritted his teeth. He could smell her. His body responded as a man would when he was near a desirable woman. He peeked down at his cargo. Lady Thornton slept on unawares. He had to wonder if this was a part of the spell or was she always this trusting as she slept? Her long lashes brushed against her cheeks in a most enticing way. One kiss had not been enough. He could not fight his desire any longer. What would it hurt to just steal one more kiss?
He leaned in, prepared to press his lips to hers once more just to get a hint of that sweet ambrosia. As he did, one of the small folk sank its sharp teeth into his calf. He kicked under impulse and sent a goblin flying across the forest to land in the brush. The goblin chittered and screeched. He spun around, the path had disappeared, and he was standing in the center of the dark forest. Damn it. I should not have let my guard down for even a moment.
The small folk surrounded him in a circle. They had given up the pretense of disguise, and they appeared as he knew them. They were small creatures, no taller than his thigh. They varied in color from mossy green to stony gray. They had rows of sharp teeth, hands with sharp nails, muscled legs and clubbed feet. They dressed themselves in the animal skins they donned. Over here was a creature with a fox pelt tied over his shoulders. Another had a cape made of robin's wings, and still another wore the head of an owl on its head. Unlike the true animal shifters of the forest, the small folk were dastardly creatures who lived for mischief and were opportunist. Under normal circumstances they would be no match for him; now drained of energy and carrying Lady Thornton, he was worried.
He could not fight them off with her in his arms, so he
had no choice but to set her down. He laid her down at his feet, making sure she was still cocooned in the blanket from his bed. It was a paltry protection, but it was better than leaving her exposed to the devious creatures who wanted to devour them both. He whistled as he turned slowly, assessing the threat. He stood over Catherine, ready to defend her if need be. The small folk were dashing around in circles fast enough that he could not lock on to any one in particular. He opened up his senses, letting the green rivers of magic flow into him. His power was stronger here in the forest, where the magic was not polluted by human influence. The river appeared clouded because of the poison, and he could not draw up his full potential, but it was enough for his purposes.
Ray pulled power from the earth, funneling the current of energy from the ground and into his body. He opened his palm, and a ball of light bubbled up like a spring. It shifted and stretched, forming into a short sword made of green flame. It burned bright in his hand, illuminating in green light the goblins that were watching him with rapt interest. A few of the creatures had crept up to Lady Thornton, and they were pulling at the blanket that covered her. Feathers were scattered on the ground from where they had torn into it.
Ray swung the sword at them and lopped off the head of one and gouged the other in the arm. The injured one hissed and scuttled backwards and hid in the bushes. The others were waiting and watching. They could sense his power was flagging. He could not maintain the fiery sword for long and they knew it.
He kneeled down and picked up Lady Thornton. He flung her over his shoulder. It was the best he could do. He pointed the sword at the creatures.
"Stay out of my way, or you will be meeting the dark one soon." He gave them a glimpse of his true face. It was all posturing; if they decided to attack en masse, he would be easily overwhelmed. Luckily for him they were stupid creatures.
They fled after his threats and left Ray and Lady Thornton alone. He sagged onto one knee once he knew they would not return. The sword flickered and faded. He set Lady Thornton onto the ground and took a moment to catch his breath. She slept on, and he wondered if this was something different than fatigue. Once he was feeling more composed, he picked her up and resumed on. He found the path again; it was full of golden light and lined with blooming flowers.
They made it out of the forest without further incident, and Ray was relieved for the first time to see Thornwood Abbey. The massive construct of stone and wood waited them like a patient sentinel. He remembered when they had built the castle, the home of the guardian, so many centuries ago. They did not call it a castle any longer, and over the years they had updated and amended it to suit current generations. He always thought it an eyesore. Hundreds of years I have watched them. I have seen them pull away from the forest and forget about us completely. He shook his head. Now was not the time for sentimentality.
It was night in the human realm. He could see only one or two lights flickering in a few of the windows. He crossed the lawn and entered through one of the back doors. The servants were asleep, and there were no more lights left on in the kitchen. He was thankful for the darkness; it was much easier to sneak in the dark. He crept up the stairs and entered the foyer. He thanked whatever god was listening that no one was about. He had no energy left to glamour any human he came across. He could only hope she would have the sense to come up with a plausible explanation.
He went up the stairs to her room and pushed open the door with his foot. He intended to set her down on the bed and slip out, but he found the room was not empty.
Lord Thornton stood up as Ray entered. "What are you doing here?" he said. His voice was cold.
Ray cursed silently. "My lord, I found Lady Thornton out in the garden. I thought I should bring her in before waking anyone else." He cringed as the words escaped his mouth.
"You lie."
Ray reeled back as if he had been slapped. "Pardon me?" His hackles were rising. It may have been a terrible lie, but he was at the limit of his patience. What right did this human have to speak to him that way?
"You killed the Larsons and then kidnapped my wife. We have been searching for her all afternoon. Did you think you could return her in the dead of night and we would not find out?" His eyes fell onto Lady Thornton, and he absorbed her unconscious state. "What have you done to her?"
Lord Thornton stormed over, and Ray willingly released his burden into the guardian's care. He felt the pressure of his own desire ebb as the lord examined his wife's face.
"She is perfectly fine," Ray said, though it took a great effort to remain civil. "As for the farmers, they were dead long before I arrived. Perhaps you should open your eyes to the dangers around you. It is your job as the guardian of the forest to protect these humans under your jurisdiction."
"Do not try to distract me with your nonsense. I will call the constable and see you behind bars."
Ray shuddered just to think of being locked behind iron bars. "That will not be necessary. If you think I have done something wrong, then face me yourself. Your ancestors were never afraid of meting out punishment when it was warranted."
"Are you asking for a duel? Then I will meet you on the field at dawn! I will take your life with my own hands if I must."
Ray had to resist the urge to laugh in the human's face. Lord Thornton could not hope to damage Ray. However, Ray knew he must obey a summons from the guardian.
"Very well, then we shall meet at dawn." He bowed in a mocking sort of way, and before Lord Thornton could say anymore, he disappeared out of the room. It took the last of his depleted magic to do so, but it was the only way he could think to avoid further confrontation until he was ready. He would teach the overreaching lord a lesson he would not soon forget.
Chapter Eighteen
Mist hung heavy on the lawn. Dawn had broken hours ago, but nothing seemed able to permeate the mist. Edward paced back and forth; Mr. Thorn was two hours late. Edward had hoped to end this horrid matter by now. For some unforeseeable reason, Mr. Thorn had brought Catherine back. For that reason alone was Edward willing to give him a sporting chance. But this must end, the murders, his wife's kidnapping; it was his responsibility. Edward had been thinking about his father. From the moment Catherine went missing his father's words had popped into his head. We are guardians of the forest, chosen to protect the people who call Thornwood home. When the time comes, you shall take up that sacred call. You must shield this village from the darkness even if it means your life. Edward clutched tighter at the iron sword. When he was a boy, he had ardently believed those words. He dreamed of himself as a knight riding on a white horse, swooping in to protect damsels in distress. When his mother died, his dreams died with her. Guardian of the forest was a fairy tale his father told him; none of it was true. If it was, then Edward would have been able to save her.
He slashed at the fog with his sword. He had buried these memories so long ago he thought they would never see the light of day again. Then Mr. Thorn had called him the guardian, and all the memories had come flooding back. Edward looked about, expecting Mr. Thorn to attack while he had lapsed into his own thoughts. A monster like him would think nothing of using dishonorable tactics. What kind of man kills the elderly and kidnaps a woman? Edward turned in a slow circle, waiting and watching. Someone who is no man at all, that's who, he answered his own question. His whole life he had heard the stories about Those Who Dwell in the Thorns, and since his mother's untimely death, he thought them fairy tales. For the first time in his adult life he was inclined to believe, if only to rationalize what was happening in the village.
The waiting was taking its toll. Edward was on edge. An owl flew by, screeching as it brushed by him. He flinched and tried to cover his head like a coward. He stood up straight and rolled his shoulders. Get it together, man. He's probably waiting out there in the mist, waiting for you to let down your guard. Edward's skin itched. He scratched at his arm. He felt as if his clothes were too tight; he tugged at his collar and pulled out his cravat. It did not
lessen the feeling of tightness; it was if his skin was stretched too tight over his bones. The longer he waited, the more his rage grew. His agitation consumed his thoughts. He kicked a nearby bucket and growled with temper. I should not have let him go. It is obvious he has no honor. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and he throws my generosity back in my face.
Flute music rolled over the fog. Edward looked up, every muscle in his body tense and prepared for action. The mist parted as Mr. Thorn strolled into the clearing. Mr. Thorn walked with the flute pressed to his lips. His uncivilized hair was down and blowing in the breeze. Even Edward had to admit seeing him emerge from the fog, flute in hand, Mr. Thorn looked like some creature from a picture book.
Mr. Thorn lowered the flute, and in the absence of music, the air was charged with tension. "I am sorry if I am late." Mr. Thorn smirked.
Edward fought the urge to strike him with a fist. He tightened his grip on the ragged handle of the iron blade. "Normally a man's duel is done at dawn, but perhaps since I am not dealing with a gentleman..." He flipped his hand backwards to excuse the matter with a gesture. "It matters not. You are here at last to receive your judgment."
Edward meant it as a slight, but Mr. Thorn laughed derisively. "You have no inclination as to what I really am."
"How dare you undermine me! I am your superior."
Mr. Thorn crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. "In what regards are you elevated above me?"
Edward opened his mouth and then clamped it shut again; never in his life had someone below his station spoken to him thusly. He is not your average man. He thinks himself above me; let his arrogance be his downfall. The thought helped to cool some of his temper.
Edward brandished his rusty blade. He felt ridiculous carrying it out here. Men fought with pistols, not antique swords, but when he saw the smirk wiped off Mr. Thorn's face, his confidence was bolstered. The old woman had not lied to him; he feared the iron blade.
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