At Bestiale’s nod, Charmeur continued, and he translated. “If you’ve seen the rest of the story in the stained glass window, then you know this”—Charmeur gestured toward his face and at Bestiale and Fleur and to the castle surrounding them—“all of this is my fault.”
Bestiale wanted to disagree. He’d allowed himself to be baited by Charmeur when he’d insulted him and called Bestiale’s mother a whore. And it was Bestiale’s blade that had pierced Fleur’s chest.
Charmeur glanced up at him, and his brow furrowed. You’re distracting me with your mental rambling. Please just translate.
Fleur rubbed her cheek against Bestiale’s calf and wound herself in between and around his ankles. I love you, brother, and I don’t hold what happened against you. It was stupid of me to go to my father in the midst of a big crowd to make demands of him over such a delicate matter. And I placed myself in harm’s way, repeatedly.
Charmeur nudged him and whispered through the connection, and Bestiale continued to translate. “If there was nothing binding you to your world, the wealth you inherited from your father, your uncle, and friends—”
“The money means nothing to me. Sure, I like living comfortably with the ability to do whatever I choose, but most of what I inherited…there is another purpose for it. Those wheels were already set in motion before I came here. The true tie is my uncle and my friends. They are my family, and to never see them again…thinking about it hurts. It’s hard to let that go. If I could just see them and let them know I’m all right…maybe we could work something out with the enchantress. Why does it have to be all or nothing?”
Bestiale shrugged and floundered about for what to say until light flared in the mirror hanging on the wall near the lady’s vanity. It had never done that before. Perhaps the enchantress was feeling benevolent? He gestured for her to approach the mirror. “Ange, will you show us your desire?”
Angel hurried to the mirror. At first the images flitted by so fast they didn’t come into focus, illustrating her inner turmoil.
Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly then opened them again. The images slowed with each careful inhalation and exhalation.
There, Charmeur whispered through the connection. It’s slowing down. Good, ange.
Angel glanced at Charmeur and at him, firming her lips before she said, “First you must understand why this is so difficult. Why I couldn’t just say yes to you.” She turned to the mirror.
It was long moments before the forms in the mirror coalesced again, showing a much younger version of Angel. He shared a grin with Charmeur over her head. What a vivacious little girl she’d been. Two other little girls appeared with her, and Bestiale knew at once they were Angel’s friends, Caresse and Elaina. The image shimmered and showed a wooded scene, similar to what he’d remembered of the green forest around their home before winter had come. Perhaps this was the area she’d told them about before. He glanced at her, and the smile on her face assured him it was Mount Rainier.
Two men who resembled each other enough to be brothers, along with several other adult men and women, were clustered around a fire pit on the shore of a secluded lake. The girls were now teenagers, sitting amongst the group, talking and laughing. In their hands, the girls held sticks with some sort of white blob at the ends over the flames. As the odd squishy things turned brown, the girls blew on them and popped the melted thing into their mouths—
What in the world? Fleur whispered through the link. That looks disgusting. Wait, is Angel setting hers on fire?
Angel giggled as she watched them. “Granted, they are a little disgusting before they’re toasted. It’s a marshmallow. I like mine burnt to a crisp before I eat it. You would enjoy them.”
Charmeur glanced at Bestiale, and they shared the same odd feeling. She couldn’t possibly have heard Fleur’s commentary about the marshmallow, could she? Obviously she would feel the need to explain something so odd. He glanced at Fleur, but she just watched the glass as it changed.
The next scene showed the young women as adults. Their arms were clasped around Angel, and all three of them wept openly while they stood next to a casket. The surroundings looked similar to the graveyard located in a corner of the garden, but it was larger and there were many markers surrounding them. A crowd of mourners all dressed in black, holding domed black contraptions over their heads. They stood around with downcast eyes and sad faces, all except for one woman, who glanced around covering a smile with a hankie, and a wily looking ferret of a man who stood beside her.
Charmeur glanced at him and frowned. One guess who those two are, he murmured into the link.
Angel pointed to them. “My lovely stepmother…and my ex-fiancé. He had me fooled that day, with his alligator tears. She ran through her lump sum inheritance in less than a year, and him…well let’s just say I’m pretty sure he helped her.”
Angel pressed gentle fingers against the mirror, touching the faces of her friends. “I wanted you to understand…what I’m giving up. I just wanted to see them one last time.”
The image suddenly brightened and shifted as she took a deep, shuddering breath. The four of them were all in their human forms, sitting on the castle terrace outside the music room. Angel was beating Bestiale soundly in a game of chess, laughing at the consternation on his face as he realized the fact. Fleur stood with Charmeur at the telescope. He gestured at the sky, and she nodded and bent to the eyepiece to look through it and smiled while chattering on.
Later, Bestiale and Charmeur led her up the stairs to the master chamber, lusty intent in their eyes.
“That’s what I want the most, for the spell to be broken. For you to be as you once were, for spring to come and the roses to bloom, and…”
The glowing image morphed into a gathering. Red rose petals drifted on the breeze as the man from the earlier image walked her down the avenue of statues, which was lined with a huge crowd.
Angel was dressed in a glorious gown of white, with a crown made of white roses with tiny ribbons cascading from it over her hair and down her back while a white veil billowed all around her.
Bestiale and Charmeur stood at the end of the avenue, dressed in resplendent coats of velvet and leather breeches and boots. Bestiale yanked at the bothersome lace trim of his collar, and Charmeur chuckled as he tugged at his cuffs, the preening peacock. But once they set eyes on her, they were entranced, of course.
The closer she came, the more obvious her joy, and finally, she stopped the man who must be her uncle, gave him a kiss on his cheek, and then ran the rest of the way down the avenue.
Heedless of the woman dressed in shimmering silver, standing with them, holding a staff in her hands, Angel flung herself into the very much human arms of Bestiale and Charmeur.
Bestiale was relieved to see that the fae enchantress’s eyes held only amusement, and not anger at the unorthodox display of enthusiasm.
It was safe to say Bestiale and Charmeur were stupefied by what they saw. His throat, always scratchy, grew painfully tight with emotion, and he couldn’t get a word out.
The mirror’s surface shimmered again, and Angel gasped.
An older version of one of the men was lying on an odd-looking bed surrounded by contraptions Bestiale had never seen before, with glowing lights and wavering lines. A woman dressed in white bent over him, speaking softly. He moaned in his sleep and murmured, “Angel…where is Angel? I need to talk to Angel…”
Bestiale asked, “Is this your father…before he died?”
She stroked the mirror and shook her head. “No, that’s my uncle.” Her voice was higher in pitch as she said, “There’s something wrong. He was in perfect health when I left. But now he is in a hospital bed in his bedroom at home, in the mansion. Bestiale—Charmeur…” Fleur ran right to her and extended her paws, asking to be picked up.
“You must go to him,” Bestiale finished for her.
She cuddled Fleur in her arms and kissed the top of her furry head befor
e turning imploring eyes on him and his brother. “I…I’ll come back, I promise. That’s what I wanted to tell you when I came up here, that I needed to see my uncle and Caresse and Elaina so they know that I’m all right and to say good-bye. But I need to know what is wrong with him. I can’t let him suffer alone.”
“Nor do we want you to, mon ange,” Bestiale murmured. He loved her, but he would let her go, if the enchantress agreed. “We heard the way he called out for you. You must go.”
Charmeur nodded, and Fleur purred in Angel’s arms and whispered into the mental connection. I can feel her pain and how anxious she is.
Bestiale placed his hand over his heart and said, I do, too.
Oui, Charmeur rasped into the link as he rose to his feet. Her pain is mine, too.
Bestiale rubbed the ache in the center of his chest, caused by the pain of parting with her but also with an added anxious quality, the source of which he couldn’t identify.
Light suddenly flared around them, similar to that which had flashed in the mirror earlier. A stiff breeze carrying the scent of the ocean made the fire crackle brightly. When his eyes adjusted, it was to behold the fae enchantress.
“Sheesh, it took you two long enough.”
He and Charmeur immediately bowed. Recalling how capricious fae could be, and with as much subtlety as he could muster, he placed his body between Angel and the enchantress. Charmeur closed in beside him, the urge to protect her evidently strong in both of them.
The enchantress giggled, a lyrical and sensual sound. “I think it’s sweet that your first impulse is to protect her,” she murmured. “Don’t worry, I won’t harm her, or you.”
Bestiale felt Angel come close and wrap a hand around his bicep. He squeezed her hand to his side, trying to still her, but she determinedly peeked around his arm and fearlessly said, “Hello.”
The enchantress cocked her head to get a better view of Angel and said, “Hello, Angel. You’ve been a good sport in dealing with these two. I hope you’ve enjoyed the castle. I’ve been away on other business, which took longer than I expected, but I wanted you to have a break from the stress of your other life.”
“You know about that?”
The enchantress nodded. “I know a lot of things. We’ll speak more on that later. For now, you’re needed in your world.”
She turned her attention to Bestiale and Charmeur. “She may return for a time to her world. The means of travel will be your sister. As long as she wears that choker, she can cross the dimensions from any point on either plane, just as before.”
Charmeur gasped and turned glittering eyes on Fleur, and his mental rasp promised retribution. Cinder-tail? You’ve been able to do this all along? You allowed us to think the enchantress had somehow brought Angel into our midst and trapped her here?
What? Fleur asked through the mental link with a sparkle in her innocent blue eyes. A girl can have secrets.
“We’re wasting time,” the enchantress muttered, cutting off the mental diatribe that sprang up. “Argue about it later. Angel, keep Fleur with you at all times. You’ll be able to communicate with her telepathically. You cannot return if she is not with you.”
Angel scoffed. “That’s how you all were communicating? I thought there was something I was missing about our conversations, especially in the beginning—”
The enchantress suddenly pounded her staff on the stone floor. “We don’t have time for this conversation! There is much to do. Normally, I’d let you have another night together, but time is of the essence, gentlemen. Say your good-byes. Fleur,” she said and squatted down and held open her arm.
Fleur flitted to her and allowed herself to be lifted in the enchantress’s arms, making Bestiale more than a little wary for his sister’s safety. The enchantress’s mood could change on a dime.
The enchantress turned to the window as she spoke unintelligibly to Fleur while stroking her from head to tail, and Fleur responded with a series of soft mews that neither of them could understand.
“Gentlemen?” The enchantress looked back at them and muttered in a terse tone, “Make haste. Her uncle’s injuries are mortal.”
Angel cried out. “Injuries? Mortal? That means—”
Merde,” Charmeur whispered into their connection.
They turned to Angel, and Bestiale felt the pain reflected in her eyes as if it were his own. “I wish we could go with you, mon ange.” He lifted his querying gaze to the enchantress, and she glowered at him. “But that cannot be. Please be careful and listen to Fleur. She obviously knows more than she has let on.” The last few words were spoken with emphasis as he made eye contact with his sister.
All the feline hooligan did was blink.
* * * *
Charmeur kneeled down so that he didn’t tower so much over Angel and opened his arms. He tried to ignore how final this parting might be if she decided not to return once she was among her family and friends again or if something happened to stop her and Fleur from returning. She went to him and leaned her head against his and kissed his furry crown. A tremble ran through her arms as she squeezed his neck tight, and he breathed her scent deep into his chest.
When he straightened and looked down at her once more, she smiled up at him with tears in her eyes and patted his wet cheeks. “Don’t, Char-moo. I will be back.”
He nodded and smiled for her, and when she turned to Bestiale, he sent a silent plea to the enchantress. He vowed he’d learned his lesson. The enchantress’s voice in his mind sent shivers up his spine as she said, “You have, Charmeur, but now you must learn patience. Be ready if she needs you.”
Yes, but how can I help— He cut off his train of thought as Bestiale gave his tail a sharp yank.
“You’re just determined to piss her off, aren’t you?”
Silence reigned, except for the merry crackling of the fire in the fireplace, as Bestiale bent and wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, taking obvious care to not squeeze her too tightly. With her feet dangling more than a foot off the floor, she giggled, but it broke off as he tilted his forehead against hers.
I love you, mon ange, he whispered into the mental link.
I love you, too. I’ll keep Fleur safe, she replied.
After releasing her with great reluctance, Fleur leaped into Angel’s arms, and the enchantress nodded. “Off you go then.”
Charmeur didn’t blink, wanting to hold her in his gaze for as long as possible as the pair faded from sight.
“Did I…” Bestiale began to say and then frowned.
The enchantress nodded as she, too, began to fade from sight. “That’s how I knew you had learned your lesson, princes. You were able to hear her with your heart and not just your ears. You’re lucky I made you pretty, sexy beasts and sent you Angel and not her stepmother.” Just after she disappeared from view, her voice echoed distantly in the mental link. The curse is lifted from you, princes. It’s up to her whether she returns or not. You may use the mirror to see how she fares.
“Pretty, sexy beasts?” Bestiale asked with a grimace. “We’re disgusting.”
Charmeur yanked his tail to pay him back. Speak for yourself, Bête. He pointed at the mirror. Angel made it home safe.
He hoped his words weren’t prophetic ones.
“Did the enchantress say the curse is lifted?” Bestiale asked as he looked at his usual beastly form, and Charmeur joined him, their side-by-side reflections the same as ever. Charmeur tried to speak aloud but no sound came forth.
Suddenly the fae enchantress’s face appeared in the mirror, startling them, and she sounded as aggravated as she looked. “Did it ever occur to you that I have everything under control? Fuck a duck! I should change you into braying jackasses just for pissing me off.”
Charmeur bowed low and laid the compliments on thick. Apologies, dame enchanteresse. Beauté magique. Reine majestueuse. Enchanteresse plus charmant.
The capricious fae paused, and the ire drained from her visage. “Well…all righ
t then, you damn sexy beasts. Say more things like that and I won’t make it permanent. Go hunt or at least run some of that”—she gestured at their forms—“beastly energy off.”
She blinked out of the reflection with a final teasing “Rowr!” and was gone.
Chapter Eleven
Reassured by Fleur’s warm, purring weight in her arms, Angel blinked to clear her vision and waited for the dizzying sensation to recede. The vibration from Fleur’s purring was suddenly joined by a nearby beeping sound.
The darkness drifted away to the edges of her vision, and the pitching in her stomach eased as she spotted the stranger dressed in nurse’s scrubs gaping at her.
“Angel? Angel, is it really you?” a terribly weak voice said from the nearby hospital bed. It scarcely resembled the robust tone she was accustomed to her uncle using.
The enchantress was right. He is very sick. Can I get down? Fleur asked as she squirmed. I want to go see him. The connection between them was crystal clear, and Fleur’s voice seemed familiar and not like she’d heard it for the first time.
“Sure.” Angel set Fleur on her feet.
Try to confine our conversations to your head. Otherwise, they might think you’re talking to yourself and maybe a little woo-woo. That could complicate things.
Oh, right, Angel replied through their mental link, which was going to take some getting used to. She rubbed her palms on her thighs and realized she was once again clad in the shorts and tank top she’d been wearing the day she’d entered the cave. How long had it been? She had no idea.
“Are you Angel Hunter?” the nurse asked as she stared wide-eyed at her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The man lying on the bed bore little resemblance to her uncle as he held out a bruised and bandaged hand to her.
“What happened?” Her voice came out a husky raspy as she went to his bedside and gently took his injured hand in her palm.
“Hurt. Looking for you.” He reached for the nurse and said, “Tell her…tell her everything we talked about.”
Beasts in Winter [Tangere Tales 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Page 13