by Myra Nour
After ten minutes or so, Briana reappeared, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “We can leave now.” She side-stepped surreptitiously to his front so he could lace her up.
He chose not to make a cute quip or tease her, she felt bad enough.
The gown was smudged with new dirty spots, which she noted immediately, making a face while she dusted at each with little success. “Hey.” She punched his shoulder lightly. “We forgot to ask about clothing.”
“No I didn’t. I asked John while we were commiserating over the peas and you were talking to Robert over the beets.”
“Oh.” She raised a brow. “So, what’d you find out?”
“Some of the ladies make clothes, but only peasant wear.” He eyed her silk trappings. “I’m not sure you’d like them.
“You must think I’m a snob.”
“No.” He scratched at his chest. “I just don’t think you’d appreciate wool like I do.” Of course he didn’t think she was a snob, but it provided too good of an opportunity to tease her. He liked to hear her laugh. Poor Briana had been slapped with too many hard, new realities in the last two days.
She had to giggle.
“But, we can walk to a nearby town. They have shops where we can order clothes made.”
“How long will that take? This dress is beginning to look pretty grungy.”
Shrugging, he said, “Don’t know, but I can go tomorrow.”
“What about me?”
“You can go if you wish, but it’s a five mile hike.” He glanced down at her delicately made shoes. “And I remember you complaining on the way here how uncomfortable those are for walking.” He ogled her. “Of course, I could carry you.” He really must remember to look for a new pair of shoes for her. Briana’s clothing was lovely, but she’d had trouble getting used to it, and the shoes were hopelessly ineffectual when it came to walking but a short distance.
Laughing, she said, “I don’t think so.” Then sighing, she said, “This ‘helpless female’ stuff gets old.”
“Tell me about it.” He laughed. He knew she wouldn’t whine about circumstances; she wasn’t a complainer. Another reason he was beginning to like her so much. Even though Briana had a hard time accepting her shapeshifter self, she’d taken the bull by the horn, when it came to facing the problems this century threw at them. She didn’t say “poor me”, but turned the problems into a joke. But then she was willing to work with him in trying to come up with solutions to those problems. Such a woman was worth having at one’s side, whether it be in jumps, or in marriage.
Smiling along with him, she punched his shoulder again, a bit harder this time.
“Ouch.” He grabbed his shoulder in an exaggerated fashion.
* * * * *
True to his word, Raynor left early the next day, while she sat contemplating the small scratched pot he’d managed to secure in the village. Running a hand inside, it came back clear. At least it looked clean, which was good since she had no idea where to get water to scrub it if she wanted. Even stranger, it was some type of pottery. The woman they’d purchased it from assured them it was a cooking pot, giving them disbelieving looks when they asked. She didn’t understand how it would withstand heat, but she’d give it a go over the fire.
Taking the crude knife he’d also bought, she began scraping various vegetables. What she wouldn’t do for a real peeler! Too many flakes of vegetable matter were deposited at her feet by the time she finished. Cutting the vegetable into chunks, she added most of the water from the flask. They’d refilled it from the well in the center of the village before leaving, and an old man had sold them another made of leather, which Raynor carried with him now.
For a long time, she sat in one of the gothic chairs, puffy pillow stuffed behind her back and thought about her lover. Her life had been turned topsy-turvy in just one day. Thank goodness, she had such a strong male at her side. Those vampires were frightening, and so was the snakewoman. But, Raynor had stood his ground, even against greater odds.
Although her lovemaking memories as seen and felt through the snakewoman were vague, she went over the details she could recall. How hard and muscular his chest had felt beneath her caresses. How steely his large cock was, and the power behind his thrusts. Of course, she had experienced their sexual encounter initially as a human this morning, but the snakewoman had more time with him, and she was jealous of those moments. She wanted to grasp their heat for her own. With yearning she remembered the burning desire their twined lips evoked. Squirming in the chair, she became aware of her throbbing lips, the clit beating an erotic rhythm between her soft folds.
Glancing toward the curtained door, she became uncomfortable with the thought of being caught in a tranquil sexual haze. Would the vampires return in spite of their forced invite? The dreariness of the cold fortress seeped into her body, made her think of things that slunk in dark corners. Just like that, her turned on state melted in the face of her fear. When would Raynor return?
Going outside, but avoiding the other tower, she found a profusion of lovely wildflowers. Dumping the apples from the bowl on the table, she arranged the colorful buds; it made the area more cheerful and elevated her mood too. She arranged the apples in a line along the edge of the table; perhaps seeing them would remind her and Raynor the fruit needed to be eaten before it went bad.
She frittered away the rest of the evening dusting the bed linens, and keeping a close eye over the vegetables simmering over the brazier.
“Honey, I’m home.”
His voice was most welcome and she ran to the door to greet him.
“Thank God you’re back.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. Raynor made her feel safe; this place was spooky. And he made her feel wanted, which she really needed right now. To be seen, heard, and felt as a human woman. He’d always managed to do that, even in the short time they’d been together. He listened to her and told her he loved the way she looked. And he was in tune with her feelings, making soothing remarks when he thought they were called for, or teasing her to lighten her mood. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have stood for such coddling, especially from someone she barely knew, but this experience called for a whole new way of acceptance. Then, there were those vamps. Only when Raynor was around did she feel unafraid. His large frame was very reassuring.
A bundle was tied to his waist and Briana was too anxious to see what he’d brought back. Did he manage to find her a new dress? Shoes? Excitement over his purchases would help shake loose the last of the willies that had hit her earlier.
Pulling material from the bundle, he handed it to her while he dug further. Her questioning look gave him pause and he said, “A change of clothing for me.”
“Where’s mine?”
“Oh, look, some soap.” He handed her a rough-looking block.
She sniffed it. “It smells like…oil, are you sure it’s soap?”
“Positive. The shopkeeper said it’s imported and made of olive oil. Very expensive stuff.” He fumbled in the bottom of the bundle. “Look, priceless items.”
Frowning, she fingered the big hook laying in his hand, a metal ball and some twine. “Why is all that priceless?”
“Because…” He had an excited look in his eyes. “I’ll be able to put some meat on the table.” He held up the hook. “This is a fishing hook.”
“I can see that.” His enthusiasm mirrored Robert’s earlier, boyish and cute. At least he didn’t intend for her to starve. She smiled at that. Caveman bring home meat to woman.
“This is the fishing line and this is the sinker.” He poked at the articles. “I wish I could take these back with me. The line is made from nettles and hemp. I don’t even know what nettles are, but it was really fascinating listening to the old man explain how it’s made—after I asked of course.” He glanced up at her. “Do you want to hear how they make the line?”
“Not particularly. What I want to see is a new dress.” The dress she wore was really feeling grungy
; she couldn’t wait to change into something else. And, she wanted to see if Raynor’s selection of clothes matched up to her earlier assumptions about him. If he chose well, he had taste; if not, perhaps she’d have to downgrade her judgment of his ability to make it through a fancy restaurant without spaghetti sauce dribbling down his tie.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, the lady will have it made in a few days.”
“A few days!” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “How did you manage to come back with a change of clothes?”
Chuckling, he held up his hands as if in self-defense. “Hey, they don’t have clothes sitting on shelves in this time, you have to special order them.” He plucked at his tunic. “I was darn lucky. This fellow ordered a new set of clothing, but then he died a few days ago of the Plague.”
“The Black Plague!” She couldn’t keep the squeal from her voice. My God, was he really talking so casually about that deadly disease that wiped out half of Europe? She glanced around at the dust coating the furniture, as if seeing it for the first time. Could the germs be all around them? “Jeez Louise, we need to get out of this place.”
“Uh huh.” Finally, he seemed to take notice of her panic. “Nothing to worry about, shifters don’t catch human diseases.”
“None, not even the Plague?”
He shook his head, his face serious.
“Wait.” She thrust both hands in front of her in halting signal. “She…I ate rats…what if one of them had the Plague?” How could she not catch the Plague when the snakewoman had consumed God only knew how many of those filthy, disease carrying rodents?
“Technically, it’d be a flea carried on the rat, but it still wouldn’t infect you.”
Trying to calm herself, she wished to goodness he’d just told her that right off the bat. Sometimes he had a way of drawing a subject out that caused her thoughts to go flying off in crazy directions, and worrying her for nothing.
She stared at his clothes anew. “Well, aren’t you the lucky one?” Her sarcasm pulled another chuckle from him. Picking up the wimple, which she hated, she flapped it in the air, as if trying to shake the wrinkles out. She could care less, but she couldn’t shake her dress to make her point. Damn, he was hard-headed sometimes. Or oblivious. Or just a man.
“Yeah, I was, but that poor guy wasn’t,” he said over her flapping.
“Quit trying to change the subject.” She held out the skirt of the dress. “What am I supposed to do? This thing is filthy.”
“Voila.” He plucked the soap from the chair where she’d thrown it. “Laundry day tomorrow.”
Crossing her arms, she stared at him. “And just where are we supposed to get enough water to accomplish that?”
Examining the items in his palm, Raynor didn’t even look up when he answered, “There’s a stream about half a mile behind the ruins.”
“My, my, you’re a fount of information. I’ll have to go with you next time.” That’s the only way I’ll really find out all the information I need.
“Yes, you’d love it, very quaint.”
“You’re loving this historical jump, aren’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” He gave her a curious look. “I thought you were too.”
Throwing her hands into the air, she exclaimed, “I was until I kept getting held back by all these feminine encumbrances!” Well, she acceded to herself, it wasn’t that bad, just aggravating. A pair of jeans, tee shirt, and gym shoes were so much better for comfort and things like walking long distances.
He glanced downward, “Speaking of that, you can’t go back with me the next trip, you forgot about your shoes.”
Placing her hands at her waist, she huffed, “If someone had thought to buy me a comfortable pair, I could.”
“I did the best I could.” He looked at her with a funny expression on his handsome face. “I ran out of money.”
“Oh, is that right?” Her face flushed with anger. “But you managed to buy your clothes and your fishing equipment first.”
Sighing, he put the items on the chair and took her arms into his large hands. “Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t bring a dress back, it was just too expensive. I had to leave the money I had left as a deposit.” He stroked her arms gently, “And I’m sorry things have been so difficult for you here.”
Her features calmed, but then she frowned. “How are we going to pay for the dress, then?”
He looked at her, an inscrutable glint in his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that…I don’t guess there’s any need for a gym manager.”
“And I’m a hotel manager.”
Nodding, he said, “Even if we could find a hotel, or rather an inn management position, they wouldn’t hire a lady.”
“Thanks for reminding me of my position here.”
Raynor smiled at her humorous sarcasm. “I…” He paused and gave her a strange look. “I thought maybe we could be exterminators.”
Chapter Twelve
“What? Exterminators!” She laughed. “Raynor, in case you haven’t noticed, these people aren’t the cleanest in the world. I hardly think a few fleas and rats would bother them.” She halted when his eyes twinkled merrily. “Oh, no, you can’t be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
He waved one hand at her. “You’re a natural.”
“Thanks,” she said sarcastically. God help her, he was serious.
“At least the snakewoman is. She knows where to find vermin and she’s the best exterminator I’ve ever seen.”
“You take the cake!”
“Well, what else are we going to do to earn money?”
Briana’s mind wheeled. Guess they could see if John needed any help with the gardens, but then she knew nothing about raising vegetables. She caught his eye. “Do you know anything about gardening?”
At his negative shake of his head, she mumbled, “Thought not.” She couldn’t sew, so seamstress was out. A prostitute? No way. Can you imagine the stench of the men? She sighed inwardly. Even if the men were handsome with perfect bathing habits, she still wouldn’t be able to fuck a total stranger. She glanced at Raynor. He was different, even though he was barely past a stranger to her. He was a shapeshifter, as she was, a fact she was beginning to accept. And according to him, his mate. She didn’t disagree with that statement as she had the first time they met. She felt too drawn to him. He set her blood on fire as no other man had before. And darn it, she liked him, very much.
Interjecting into her stewing mind, he said, “You know, you have a really lovely new dress waiting for me to pick up in three days.”
“Fine,” she flopped her arms to her sides and gripped the gown in sweaty palms. “Make me into this nasty exterminating monster.”
“It’ll be the both of us.”
“How? You hardly have the appetite for rats.”
“No, but we’ve got to pull this off in a way that’s believable, at least to a medieval set of mind. We can’t simply walk into a village, have you change into a snakewoman and start chasing rats.”
Now she was curious. “What’s your idea?”
“Have you ever heard of the ‘Pied Piper’?”
Furrowing her brows, she said, “Some kind of fairy tale about a guy leading rats somewhere?”
“Almost right. The Pied Piper played a flute and led the rats into a lake where they drowned.” His forehead creased in thought. “There’s even a little ditty they wrote.” His voice boomed when he said the words.
“In the year 1284 after the birth of Christ
From Hamelin were led away
One hundred thirty children, born at this place
Led away by a Piper into a mountain.”
“How on earth did you remember that poem?”
“Wrote a book report on the Pied Piper when I was in junior high.” He shrugged. “The poem just stuck.”
“But the poem says nothing about him leading rats away.”
“I know. The villagers didn’t pay his fee for all his hard work,
so he got them back by stealing their children.”
“Great, just when I was beginning to think there might be something noble in helping get rid of the rats.”
Raynor laughed hard. “We’re not going to steal their children, even if they don’t pay us. And you’re right, it is a noble cause.”
“How so?” she interrupted him.
“The fleas caused the Plague, and by killing rats, you’re essentially doing away with the source of disease infestation.”
“You do make it sound so noble.” This time she laughed. Her look turned serious just as swiftly, she asked, “Are we in the time period when the Black Plague was decimating Europe?”
Shaking his head in the negative, he said, “From talking to the townspeople, I found out it nearly wiped out their whole place some twenty years ago. Be glad we’re here now. It was horrendous according to the old man I spoke with.”
“People scared to death, bodies piled up, a horrible stench in the air from the disease and burning bodies.” At his surprised look, she replied, “I remember reading about it in high school.”
“Unfortunately, it’s still around. They have small outbreaks occasionally.”
“So, Pied Piper, how are you going to help me pull this off?” She frowned.
“We find a mark—” At her disapproving look, he corrected, “customer. Then, we go inside, you change and eat up all the rats you can find.”
Folding her arms, she waited for his soliloquy to finish.
“I play a flute inside while you work, and then you bring me a few rodents to stick in a bag. The villagers see the bag outside and assume we’ve caught all the rats. Presto. A job well done, money exchanged for service rendered.”
“You make it sound so simple—for you!” She picked up one of the exquisitely embroidered pillows and pounded it.
“Aw, Briana, she really doesn’t mind.” He tried to touch her, but she jerked away.