by Robyn Bachar
I cleared my throat and continued my explanation. “My magic does not require spoken words, so I simply concentrated on the strongest connection I had to this world. You.” I smiled at my husband. His expression brightened at my words, and he took my hand again. “I wasn’t prepared for the experience of creating the portal, but it was necessary. The faeries were not about to allow us to leave peacefully after what we had seen.”
“My wife, the brave explorer,” Michael said with a fond smile. “I can’t believe you went to Faerie.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It was a very disagreeable place. I don’t think I would like to visit again.”
“There are many lovely places in Faerie. That just did not happen to be one of them,” Dr. Bennett said. “I am not certain where we were. Do faeries fall into your area of study as a chronicler?” The doctor turned to Simon, and I repressed a sigh of relief. An academic problem would be the perfect distraction for Simon.
Dr. Bennett peppered him with details of our journey, and I turned my attention back to my husband. Surprisingly, his focus was still on me and not on the topic of discussion.
“I love you.”
A thrill went through me at Michael’s words. I had missed him terribly.
“I love you, too,” I replied.
“I wish I could have accompanied you.”
“You can’t. You’re not allowed in Faerie,” I reminded him. Master necromancers and chroniclers were not allowed to visit Faerie, for the faeries took exception to their undead state. Becoming immortal was considered a sin, because it interrupted the natural wheel of life. I wondered what Lady Brigid thought of that.
Exceptions could be made for your unique situation, particularly if you allied yourself with the right mentor.
I shuddered at the thought, and Michael frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing to worry yourself about,” I assured him.
Thankfully Justine returned before my husband could ask further questions. Her brow was furrowed, but at least her sword and shield had returned to a harmless parasol—well, mostly harmless, I assumed. It would be amusing to see her whap Simon with it…
“The Oberon is in Salisbury, still celebrating Midsummer,” she announced. “He refuses to return for two more days.”
“Refuses?” Simon asked.
“He’s a stubborn ass,” she replied. “I’ve had trouble with him ever since my arrival.”
“Lucius is a traditionalist,” Simon said.
Justine snorted. “That is one way of putting it. We can’t proceed without him.”
“How do we proceed?” I asked.
“The Oberon will need to bring our charge against the faeries to their Council of Three, and the council will proceed from there. For a crime of this magnitude there will likely be a trial, and we will all need to testify.”
I nodded, for that seemed reasonable. Perhaps the faeries could explain themselves. I couldn’t imagine a reasonable motive for the faeries to have killed dozens of girls, but I recognized the heartache of the woman in my vision.
“Very well. What should we do in the meantime while waiting for the Oberon’s return?” I asked.
“Be vigilant. If this house does not have faerie wards, you should consider casting some,” Justine suggested. I hated the idea of more wards, for in my humble opinion there were far too many in this city to begin with. She crossed to stand next to my chair, casting a curious glance at Michael, who still knelt at my feet.
“You look much improved,” she said.
“I feel quite well now. I merely overexerted myself.”
“You seem to do that quite frequently. I have never met anyone who swoons as often as you,” she commented.
I blushed. “All magic has its drawbacks. Unfortunately that is mine.”
“Perhaps if you used your magic on a regular basis, you would not find it so draining,” Justine suggested. “Well, you should have a few days to rest. I will keep you informed of any new developments in the meantime.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me,” I said.
“That faith is easily justified. You have proved yourself more than once.” Justine’s gaze flicked from Michael to Simon in a silent critique of their attempts to limit my activities. “You are brave and powerful, Emily. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I smiled at the compliment, suffused with the warm glow of praise, for I seldom heard it. That feeling dissipated the moment Simon cleared his throat.
“We have no doubt that Emily rushes in where angels fear to tread. It is her penchant for doing so that gives us cause for concern,” Simon commented.
“Your concern is very touching,” I replied dryly.
“Emily.” Michael’s voice was weary, and in reflex I reached out and affectionately brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. He was forever trying to tame his hair, and there were always a few locks that escaped his attempts. I found it charming. Michael smiled, because he was never able to stay cross at me for long.
“I will leave you to your discussion, for I have matters to attend to,” Justine said.
She motioned for Dr. Bennett to accompany her out, and before they left the room I mouthed the words Tell her! to Dr. Bennett. He nodded and beat a hasty retreat.
“Tell her what?” Michael inquired after they were gone.
“Before we left for our adventure in Faerie, I discovered that Dr. Bennett and Miss Dubois are soul mates. I left it up to him to inform her of that. I think they are a marvelous match. They already work so well together. I’m sure they will be very happy.”
“You seem quite fond of Miss Dubois,” Simon said.
Squaring my shoulders, I brushed at my skirts and rose. Michael rose with me, and I forcibly reminded myself that I was not to touch him, as my first instinct was to take his arm. “At the moment, I like Miss Dubois a great deal more than I do you,” I replied, glaring at him. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me—”
“I would very much like to hear the story of what happened,” Michael said. For a moment I wavered, tempted by the idea of spending more time in his company, but the pull of a familiar wailing from the hallway won my attention.
“Another time. Robert needs me.”
I found Josephine’s nanny in the hallway, holding my little boy and looking quite exasperated. Poor woman. With my brood in the house her duties had more than doubled, and I made a mental note to make certain that part of my allowance went toward paying her an additional wage. She had more than earned it. I rescued her from Robert, who clung to me as though he had been tossed into a stormy sea and I was his only safe harbor.
For the rest of the day I tended to the children and placated Josephine and Thomas, who did not appreciate having a murder victim dropped into their home. Thankfully I was able to win them over by pointing out that if it were their daughter, Phoebe, they would want someone to look after her. Phoebe had a few years yet before she would be eligible for marriage, but she was old enough to notice the charms of the opposite sex, and the idea of her being lured away by an amorous faerie with mal intent turned all our stomachs. How awful for Miss Thistlegoode and her family. I hoped that her spirit found peace.
That night I sat in the nursery until Robert fell asleep. I was determined that he would stay in his cot, for I needed a good night’s rest. Of course I might have also been avoiding my husband and his mentor by staying late in the nursery, but I felt justified in that. I didn’t care to speak any more with Simon than was absolutely necessary, and I wasn’t allowed time alone with Michael.
The hour had grown very late by the time I crept back to my room. I was exhausted, and would have fallen directly into bed if my hair weren’t still up in its pins. The brush was heavy in my hand as I took my hair down, and I frowned at the dark circles under my eyes as I studied my reflection. Were there more lines around my eyes? Or worse, perhaps they were growing deeper…
“Emily,” Michael said softly. Startled, I dropped the brush. My heart r
aced like a frightened rabbit as I spotted my husband standing behind me.
I scowled at him. “Darling, you can’t keep sneaking in here. Simon will find out, and I do not want to endure another one of his lectures.”
Michael sighed. “He is being overcautious. You know I would never hurt you.”
“You are not yourself.” The words burned as though they had been seared into my soul. Perhaps they had been, considering that we were soul mates. “What do you want?”
He stepped closer, pulled me to my feet and drew me into his arms. I stiffened as Simon’s dire warnings rang through my thoughts, but when Michael held me all I noticed was the familiar subtle cologne of his soap and the papery scent of too much time spent buried in books—and the security I always felt in his embrace. Peace and completion filled me when I was wrapped in Michael’s arms, and that had not changed one bit.
“You can’t keep scaring me like this. I love you. I will always love you,” he murmured against my hair.
I closed my eyes and buried my head against his chest. He still breathed, and I found comfort in that, and though his pulse was sluggish his heart continued to beat. “I love you, too. I just wish…things were simpler.”
“What could be simpler than the fact that I love you?” he asked.
“Growing old together,” I blurted in reply.
It was cruel of me, and I felt guilty for saying it, but the sense of being whole brought on by his embrace made my heart ache. We belonged together, and yet every moment that passed drew us further apart. Every breath, every heartbeat brought me closer to death, while my soul mate was perfectly preserved in time.
Michael tilted my face up and stroked my cheek. “Age is nothing more than a number.”
“You would say that, being ageless now,” I retorted.
My husband replied by kissing me. My first thought was that his lips were cool as well, but then it didn’t matter. I had missed him so much, had craved his touch for so long, that all that mattered was feeling it again.
“Let me spend the night with you,” he murmured against my lips. I shook my head—Simon would be furious beyond words, and I wasn’t certain that I trusted Michael that completely yet. Michael might not intend to hurt me, but that didn’t mean he might not do it by accident. “Please, darling.”
“We should wait. There are only a few months left until your year is complete.”
“I can’t stand being parted from you for another moment. Let me make love to you.”
That sent a shiver of an entirely different sort through me. I had not seen Michael in months, but it had been longer than that since we had last shared a bed, due to my last pregnancy and the difficulties of Robert’s birth. As I stared up into his dark eyes, the temptation of spending a lustful hour with my husband was more than I could resist, gods help me, and I nodded my assent.
With an eager moan he crushed me to him and kissed me until I was dizzy. When I came up for air I quickly unbuttoned his shirt as he unfastened my dress. After my trip to Faerie and back the poor garment had seen better days, but I barely gave it a second thought as the fabric fluttered to the floor and Michael pressed me back toward the bed. I despaired at the amount of clothing we both still wore as he covered me with hungry kisses. When I reached for his trousers I flinched as the bite of fangs pierced my neck.
It startled me, because aside from the unfortunate incident with Mr. Farrell, the few times I had been fed from before had been chaste bites from my wrist, and Simon had only used enough magic to make the experience painless. There was nothing chaste about this, and I moaned in ecstasy as pure pleasure crashed through me. The spell was deliciously lurid and wanton, and I wanted more, as much as I could get.
With one hand he held my head in place as he drank, and with the other he teased my nipples as they strained against my cotton chemise. Then his attentions moved lower, hauling my skirt up and plunging his hand between my spread thighs. A bright wave of pleasure sizzled in my veins as I climaxed at his touch alone. Lord and Lady, how could such a simple thing feel so amazing?
Michael drew away and I fell in a boneless, shameless heap atop the bed. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Oh, darling, yes,” I purred. Quite better than all right, in fact, but my mind was too hazy with afterglow to form more complex words.
With a wicked grin he removed his clothes at breakneck speed, and mine as well. Michael kissed me again, deeply and passionately, when he joined me on the bed, and I tasted my blood on his lips and tongue. It was a strange thing—not entirely unwelcome, but different.
Though the hard length of his manhood pressed against me, he didn’t enter me, and instead began kissing a tantalizing trail down my body. He paused at my breasts, teasing the taut peaks with his hands, lips and tongue, and then continued on. My face burned with a blush as his lips brushed my inner thigh, and then, much to my surprise, he bit me again. For a moment I was confused, for it seemed an odd place to bite someone, but then the magic overwhelmed me and I choked down a scream of pure delight that would have woken the entire household.
Perhaps I had been thinking of this blood donation matter in the entirely wrong way…
As he steadied my leg with one hand, he teased my sex with the other, his nimble fingers alternately stroking my throbbing bud and plunging inside of me. Adrift in the exquisite sensations, I lost all sense of time. There was only my lover, and the endless pleasure of him.
When he withdrew he hovered above me once more, and finally sheathed his shaft inside me. I arched against him with an eager moan, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close as he thrust with a desperate pace. Michael murmured soft endearments and proclamations of his love for me, and I returned them in kind. Dear gods, I had missed him so terribly, and it seemed as though our lovemaking healed a wound I hadn’t even known had formed during our time apart.
Michael lowered his lips to my throat and bit me again, and I gasped and begged him not to stop. I had never felt so taken before, so consumed by my lover as he devoured me with his mouth and his sex. The magic of the bite swamped me with pleasure as each thrust filled me, until I was filled with so much sensation that I could hardly breathe. My eyes slid shut as I gasped, moaned and whimpered, and as I sank into a warm cloud of pleasure I realized that something was wrong, because my arms and legs were suddenly too heavy to move. My eyes refused to open, and a cold spike of fear shot through me as unconsciousness took me, for I was suddenly taken with the idea that this time I might not wake up at all.
Chapter Ten
As Justine had commented, I was prone to fainting at inopportune moments. I had long ago lost count of the number of times I was overtaken by a sudden swoon. It was simply an unfortunate fact of my life, and I dealt with it as best as I was able.
Fainting due to blood loss was new, however, and as I drifted back toward consciousness I found I did not care for it. I felt ill in ways my visions had never caused, such as aching, pinpricked limbs and a proliferation of bright spots that danced just inside my eyelids. My eyes were still too heavy to open and my mouth refused to form any words whatsoever, so I listened to the goings-on around me.
There was a terrible amount of shouting. I recognized Michael and Simon’s voices raised in an argument. Simon was furious, and Michael was apologetic. The warm green glow of Dr. Bennett’s energy was seated beside me, and I sensed that he was healing me with a lovely, soothing spell. There was weariness in his energy; it was very late, and no one should be awake at this hour. I wondered how he had fared with informing Miss Dubois of their status as soul mates, but my questions would have to wait until I was in greater control of my faculties.
Dr. Bennett left after a time, but the shouting remained. The emotions were clear, the bright reds of anger and the deep blues of heartache, but it was difficult to make out the precise words, so I concentrated. After all, I had little else to do at the moment. Michael was sobbing, and my heart ached for him. It was as much my fault as it was his, bec
ause I could have been more assertive in insisting that we wait. My weakness had helped to cause this, and I wouldn’t allow myself or Simon to place all the blame on Michael. Really, it would make me much happier to blame Simon. If he hadn’t insisted on turning Michael, none of this would have happened. But, as Michael had informed me, Simon did not have the authority to release him from his oath, and by keeping my husband in the Order he had ensured that our family’s honor remained intact. Perhaps I should thank him…
“You don’t know,” Simon snarled. “You can’t possibly comprehend what would have happened if you hadn’t come to your senses. You almost killed her. Is that what you want? Your soul mate’s blood on your hands? Would you take their mother away from your children for a few moments of lust?”
“Of course not—” Michael replied.
“Yet you almost did. A few more moments and Emily would have been dead at your hands. Did you think the rules were put in place to inconvenience you?”
Michael sighed. “No, but—”
“You were selfish and irresponsible and you cannot make a mistake like this again. Because next time you will kill her, and there is no coming back from grief like that. It will drive you mad. Destroy you like a cancer until there is nothing left of you but a shell. Who will look after your family then?”
Michael broke down into sobs again, and I longed to comfort him. My poor darling… Simon growled and told him to leave, and after my husband left the room, Simon took the place Dr. Bennett had vacated at my side.
I hardly wanted Simon St. Jerome as a nursemaid, and would have told him so in no short order if I had had the ability to speak. There was an odd gray melancholy about him as the anger faded, and when he placed his hand over mine I suddenly knew why.