Mona Lisa Darkening m-4

by Sunny

  "I did so selfishly, in hopes of spending time with you alone." A little pause, "Why does that make you so uncomfortable?" he asked in a quiet voice.

  "I guess because it always surprises me that you would want that. To be with me."

  "Why should that surprise you?" asked the man who looked like a sun god.

  "Oh, come on, Dontaine. Just look at me, and then look at yourself."

  "I am looking, and I still do not see."

  "Dontaine, you're one of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen. Me, I'm just average, at best."

  "Gryphon was more beautiful than I," he said softly.

  "Yes, but he was an outcast, a rogue when I first met him. Amber, too, in his own way, was an outsider. Chami, Tomas, Aquila — all the men I claimed, they all existed on the outer fringes of Monère society. But not you, Dontaine. You were the golden boy, your Queen's favorite."

  "And because I am not one of your outcasts, one of the men you rescued, you are not comfortable with me?"

  "Not so much uncomfortable as surprised. It's an unlikely pairing, you and me. Like hitching a beautiful race horse with a clumsy nag."

  "If you are going to cut me off at the knees, at least be truthful about why you are doing so!" he said abruptly. The sudden spill of hot emotions from Dontaine surprised me enough to pull the car over onto the side of the road.

  "What are you talking about, Dontaine?"

  "You reject me because you do not trust me! You believe that once a traitor, always a traitor!"

  I shook my head, at a total loss. "I don't have any idea of what you're talking about."

  "I almost betrayed you once!" he burst out. "I fully intended to. You know that — you had to know that. You had to have suspected."

  "Suspected what?"

  "That Mona Louisa left me behind in the hopes that you would take me to your bed, so that I could betray you to her." Anger, guilty torment etched harsh lines across his face, and still he remained exquisitely handsome, enough to take my breath away.

  "What changed your mind?"

  "What?"

  "You said you intended to betray me, Dontaine. What changed your mind?"

  "You did," he whispered. "You were supposed to fall under my spell. But I was the one bewitched instead. That night when you cared for me after my challenge battle with Amber, I thought you did so with the intention of bedding me to acquire my gift of Half Change." He had the rare ability to arrest his change in a state that was halfway between man and wolf. Not the mutant half-half form down in NetherHell, but a true blending of both states, so that he became the werewolf of human folklore.

  I was aghast that he had thought sex my only intent in helping him. "God, Dontaine. You thought I wanted to have sex with you, when you were so gravely injured, choking in your own spit and blood?"

  "I was willing."

  "I know."

  "But you didn't want me. You cared for me, washed me, cleaned me with your own hands, saw to my comfort."

  "There was no one else. I was the closest thing we had to a healer at that time."

  "And when I was healed enough, you elevated my status to your master at arms, even though I had lost the challenge. Even though you had not taken me to your bed, or benefited from me in any way."

  "I benefited from your experience, your knowledge, your established relationship with the people here. I trusted you, and you honored that trust."

  "But for one moment, just before I rescued you, you thought that I had betrayed you."

  I didn't try to deny it. He'd seen that belief in my eyes. "But you didn't."

  "No," he said with soft bitterness. "I betrayed my former Queen instead, and damned myself in your eyes as a traitor."

  "No, Dontaine, you didn't." I grabbed his hand, and was surprised to feel only a gentle buzz from the contact instead of the usual strong zap of electrical power. I hadn't known Dontaine was able to control himself that well when his emotions were riding so high.

  "Then why?" he asked, clearly distraught. "Why do you continue to reject me?"

  "Because of what I told you before. I never understood why you chose me over Mona Louisa. She's beautiful, which I am not, and a Full Blood Monère Queen, which I'm also not. And she favored you."

  "Whereas you obviously do not."

  "Dontaine…"

  "Do you truly trust me?" he asked.

  "Of course I do. You are my master of arms. You've rescued me, more than once, proven yourself true many times."

  "Then that nonsense you spouted before, about my being the golden boy and you being plain… that really is why you push me away?"

  I nodded and said softly, "I'm sorry, Dontaine."

  "You make no sense, you know. I am no longer the most favored by my Queen. But perhaps that is in my favor. At least I am still by your side."

  A cruelly accurate jab. Gryphon was gone; Amber sent away to rule another territory.

  "No, don't draw back," Dontaine murmured, his hand tightening around mine. "Forgive me for letting my own hurt and frustration to spill out like that. Blessed Night. You are so different from other Queens." He looked at me like a puzzle he could figure out, if only he could see the pieces clearly enough. Drawing my hand with a thoughtful gesture to his face, he asked, "Would you care for me more if I were ugly? Scarred?"

  I jerked my hand away, horrified. "Don't you dare do anything so stupid! I forbid you! No scars, no trying to turn yourself ugly for me." Then some of the panic eased as common sense asserted itself. "I forgot. Monères don't scar. We heal too quickly."

  "We can scar. With the addition of certain chemicals, we can be left with permanent scars."

  "Dontaine," I said clearly, carefully. "I never want you to do that for me. Your scars would flay me, and my guilt over it would drive me away from you more surely than your handsome face does now. I know my reasoning is not the soundest, that I probably don't make sense to you, but hurting yourself, leaving visible wounds on your face… it wouldn't help. It would only make matters worse, much worse. Promise me that you will never do anything like that."

  He bowed his head. "As you command."

  "Say it!"

  His eyes lifted, met mine. "I will not deliberately try to scar myself."

  "Too conditional. Say that you will not scar yourself."

  "I cannot promise you that. It may one day be another's intent to inflict that on me, beyond my control."

  "Then promise that you will do your best never to permanently scar yourself or allow another to do so to you."

  "I give you my oath that I will do my best never to permanently scar myself or allow another to inflict that upon me."

  Only when he had made that promise, did my heart ease.

  "Do my looks please you then?" he asked.

  When you cared for someone, you should make them happy, confident with themselves, not discontent, not wanting to turn themselves ugly, I thought sadly. I looked at this breathtakingly handsome warrior before me, and did not know what to do with him.

  "Yes, Dontaine, your handsome face, your beautiful body pleases me very much. I would be very unhappy if you allowed yourself to become damaged on purpose."

  My words made him happy. Made him smile. "I will find another way to make us seem more of an equal match in your eyes," he said with determination. An impossible task, I wanted to say. But I didn't. Silence here was much wiser.

  We parked in front of the public library, across the street from my brother's car. His heartbeat, slower than the other fast beats around him, told me that he was inside. Chami, on the other hand, was not. The sudden flare of his Monère presence next to four human heartbeats had Dontaine and me rushing around the back of the building to find Chami faced off with four high school boys. Yes, boys, even though they were as tall or taller than Chami, and with far beefier builds. Seniors. Big bruisers wearing varsity letter jackets. Football jocks, if I wasn't mistaken. The same ones, I was willing to bet, that had beaten up my brother a week ago.

  The real
ization spiked my anger and also my confusion. "I thought you were going to let Thaddeus defend himself," I said to Chami. My words turned all their faces to me, and I caught sight of a black eye on one boy, and a cut swollen lip on another guy.

  "I did," Chami said, "and your brother kicked two of their asses yesterday quite nicely, as you can see. Unfortunately, they did not seem to have learned their lesson. They're back with two more of their buddies. Four against one, boys? Very flattering, but grossly uneven odds against a kid one year younger and forty pounds lighter than any of you."

  "So what? The three of you going to take us on?" sneered the tallest brute, the guy with the black eye. He seemed to be the ringleader. To my amusement, he eyed Dontaine warily, mistaking him as the biggest threat, not the slender assassin standing right in front of him.

  "No," I said. "That would be even more unfair. We have to even the odds up better."

  The big black-eyed boy hooted. "No way I'm going to have one of my boys leave. You're one man short — two, considering you're just a girl — that's your problem, not ours."

  It was the slow heartbeat behind me that let me know that my brother had joined us, even before he spoke. "I'm here, Jack. I make four," said Thaddeus, coming to stand beside me.

  "You mistook my meaning about evening up the odds," I said with a mildness I did not feel inside. "I meant reducing our numbers, not adding to them. If the four of us engaged the four of you, it would be a slaughter." Which actually sounded pretty good to me. But no, I pushed aside the temptation. "The three of us will just watch. Chami, these four ignorant bullies are all yours."

  Jack and his friends laughed. "Him against us? You consider that even odds?"

  "Not really. You'd need two more of your big buddies to really call it fair but I think this is all I'm going to grant you."

  With an eager, ugly look on his face, Jack turned and swung at Chami. His fist met only air as Chami took an easy step back. Moving slowly for him, at human speed, Chami pushed Jack over a tripping foot to land him hard on the ground. Three more twists and shoves, and the rest of Jack's gang were sprawled alongside their leader. Less than five seconds.

  Grabbing Jack, lifting him easily with one hand, Chami slammed him back against the side of the building and held him there "Looks can be deceiving," Chami murmured. "Lesson number one: Training, experience, and a cool head will always prevail over untrained idiots. Lesson number two: I will give you only one warning." A knife appeared in Chami's hand as if by magic, and he threw it behind him without even looking. It struck the ground an inch in front of the boy who had been rushing to Jack's rescue. The boy yelped.

  "If you come after Thaddeus again, the next time I will not restrain myself. The next time I will kill you."

  Whatever Jack saw in Chami's eyes, it scared the shit out of him. His voice rose an octave higher. "We're cool, man! We're cool. Won't bother him again, my word."

  Chami lowered Jack back down. As soon as Jack's feet touched the ground, he jerked away from Chami to huddle back against his three buddies, their wide eyes all fastened on the stiletto Chami had pulled out of nowhere and was flipping with chilling, impressive ease.

  They eased cautiously around us. Once clear, they ran for the street.

  "I think your knives did more to frighten them than your words, Chami," I said.

  "Still, I think Jack believed you — the part about killing them," Thaddeus said, grinning. "The way you said it was totally believable, man. I think they'll leave me alone now."

  They better, because Chami's threat wasn't the bluff my brother seemed to think it was.

  Chami's eyes met mine, and the question in those angry depths — if he could kill them if they overstepped themselves again — I could not answer in front of my brother.

  "Well done, Chami," I said for now.

  He gave me one of those graceful head dips, understanding that we would talk later. I turned to my brother. "You got any more studying to do?"

  "Nothing I can't do later. How are you, Lisa? Everything all right?"

  "Everything's fine. I finally woke up and wanted to see how you were doing, which seems to be fine. Let's go grab some coffee, and you can tell me how you kicked their bully asses yesterday."

  "After practicing with Jamie under Nolan's instruction, it was easy taking them down," Thaddeus said. "I have better control of my strength now." We laughed and chatted for an hour as the sun slowly set, sitting at a local diner where the men drank coffee and I indulged my sweet tooth with a slice of lemon meringue pie. None of the others ate anything, though, likely in fear of Rosemary's wrath if they ruined their appetite for the main eventide meal, which we would be eating soon.

  The laughter and celebration ended in more practical reality as we drove back home. Chami rode with me per my request so we "could catch up on things." Dontaine caught a ride with Thaddeus.

  "My apologies, milady" were Chami's first words to me inside the car. "I should not have threatened to kill the human boy without asking you first if it was permitted."

  That killing was Chami's first instinctive response was not a surprise. He'd been an assassin, what other Queens had used him for. It was certainly the perfect career choice for him. Chami's full name was Chameleo, in honor of the chameleon gift that allowed him to literally disappear from sight, and even more dangerously, from Monère senses, until he reappeared again — the reason for our sudden sensing of him when we had first arrived. To the four boys outside, it would have seemed as if Chami had appeared out of nowhere or snuck up on them undetected. Both were true. What was surprising was that it had also been my instinctive response upon seeing them and realizing who they were. Frightening how easy the thought of killing was becoming to me.

  "No apology needed, Chami. You've displayed remarkable constraint." He had allowed Thaddeus to take on the boys yesterday, much more constraint than I might have shown. I doubted I would have allowed Thaddeus to take on two opponents. Maybe one — and that was a very big maybe.

  "So am I allowed?" he asked.

  "To do what?"

  "To kill them if they bother Thaddeus again."

  "A difficult dilemma," I said. "A threat is only effective if you're willing to deliver on the punishment. But… if they bother Thaddeus again, let me know and I'll take care of them. Not fighting them," I said when Chami started to protest. "I'll compel them." Force my will upon theirs, something I hated to do, and perhaps even their parents. If I had to, I'd compel them to move away from here. Better than killing them. "But I think we made our point. And Thaddeus said he's no longer helping Jack's girlfriend in math, the reason for the friction in the first place." She'd been using him, Thaddeus had said, enjoying the drama and jealousy she caused and snubbing him at school. A painful first lesson in girls, but at least he hadn't sounded heartbroken. Far from it. He seemed more confident now, at ease with himself. Older somehow.

  "Is Thaddeus taller?" I asked, frowning.

  "He grew an inch, with more to quickly follow," Chami said, satisfaction evident in his voice. "He's finally entered into his growth spurt. Also starting to put on some weight and muscle from his daily practice with Nolan and Jamie."

  "What about Tersa? Is she practicing with them?" She'd shown an interest, and had the most reason to want to learn. She'd been raped, brutally taken against her will by a Monère warrior. I didn't know her before the attack. All I knew was the quiet girl she was now, wary around men, barely speaking to anyone. Only around Jamie, Thaddeus, and Wiley, the wild Mixed Blood stray she had adopted, was she at ease.

  "Tersa practices with them most days, not all."

  "Good." I wanted her to learn. If Thaddeus's triumph the other day was any indication, Nolan was an effective teacher — as I had cause to learn myself after we finished our main meal of the day.

  I'd like to say my people pampered me, but that wasn't exactly the Monère way. They hovered, took care of me, each in their own way. Rosemary made sure I ate everything on the plate. After dinner — or
more like brunch, in our case — Nolan stayed behind while everyone dispersed to their separate duties. I, apparently, was Nolan's.

  "We're beginning sword practice today," he announced to me.

  "We are?"

  "Yup."

  I smiled at his response. Nolan, his wife, and two sons, had spent a couple of decades living among the humans and, at times, he was more casual in his way of speaking than the other warriors. Not too long ago, he'd also nearly been the grandfather of my child. Would have been had I not miscarried. He had a tie to me that others did not have. It was a connection that made him comfortable enough to boss me gently around, and have me obey him.

  So first day rested, miraculously back from the Cursed Realm of the damned dead, I found myself wielding a wooden sword, learning basic sword drills. The scowl on my face wasn't from the ridiculously easy drills. It was from the perceived injury to my dignity.

  "Why can't I use a real sword to practice?" I asked after finishing up the first set.

  "Because you are a beginner. Until you demonstrate to me that you are more than that, what you hold in your hand will be your practice weapon."

  "It's not as if I haven't used a real sword before," I grumbled. "It's demeaning using the same thing a snotty twelve-year-old kid here would use." Come to think of it, I guess I was lucky he wasn't having me train with the beginner's group, which ranged from ten- to seventeen-year-old boys.

  "Just because you were fortunate enough to kill your opponents with a sword during battle does not advance you beyond novice status," Nolan said.

  "It wasn't luck," I muttered. "What more do I need to learn than swing a sword hard enough to take off my enemy's head." Yeah, yeah, I knew better. But I couldn't seem to help myself. I was embarrassed and chagrined by the wimpy pretend weapon I held.

  "Okay, show me," Nolan said. He picked up a wooden practice sword and faced me. No embarrassment on his face. But then, not only was he a big guy, almost as physically big as Amber, he was a master swordsman. He had nothing to prove while I, on the other hand, did. Still, this was far better than doing those embarrassingly easy drills.