by Marie Hall
The guard’s eyes jerked to hers, and even in the dim lighting she could read the question in his eyes, the curiosity of what she’d meant.
“You will come with me.” The guard’s voice sounded like he’d crunched on glass throughout the evening. He flicked his fingers at them, gesturing for them to come.
There was no room for an actual sword fight in there, but the way he stood, and how he’d moved his fingers toward his belt let Nixie know there was definitely a weapon on him.
Did they have guns here?
Robin snorted. “Funny that you’d assume I’d willingly go to you, knight.”
The guard lifted a brow. “No fear then? One of those, eh? I wondered why my King had me post up here tonight, I now see he suspected one of you Merry Men might attempt something.”
Merry Men? The guard thought Robin was just a Merry Man? Wanting to laugh with relief, even as she still wanted to pee her pants (the man might not be holding a gun at them, but there was no doubt that his intentions were anything but honorable right now) she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Way I see it, son of a whore,” the man danced his fingers across a hilt Nixie hadn’t seen before. “Your options are verra limited.”
Holy crap, the blade might not be a sword, but it was still plenty big. Heart pounding harder than before, she kept waiting for Robin to make his wish. Yes, it was his final wish, and yes, he’d lose any and all chance of doing whatever it was he needed to do with Crispin, but it was better to live and fight another day than die in here where no one knew where they were at and there’d be no backup to be had.
Robin’s chuckle made her skin burn even as she wanted to groan. Now, was so not the time to play “whose is longer”.
“That’s where you’re wrong, knight. I’ve got two options as I see it.”
Thank God. He was going to make his wish after all. Not that she wanted to leave him. Not yet. But, she’d rather see him alive and happy someday, then to visit a gravestone.
“One. I could subdue you and leave you here to be found...” he shrugged, “who can say when.”
The sarcastic smile on the guard’s face never wavered and Nixie began to get a terrible feeling through the pit of her stomach.
“Or two. I could kill you.”
Kill! Kill! Was he insane? He couldn’t kill somebody here, not now. They needed to get away, they needed to go. There was no time to subdue the guard either.
“Make your wish, Ro—” Realizing the name she’d been about to say, she coughed and cleared her throat. “Charming.”
“Marian,” Robin snapped at her and instantly she wanted to wish the words back, wanted to fix it so that it’d never happened. But the magic wasn’t hers to wield.
The guard’s eyes narrowed to thin slits and a light of greed and avarice glittered in their depths. “Robin?” He snarled. “As in Hood? Bloody hell.” His smile grew broad and full of malic. Then he yanked on the large five-inch buck knife in his belt and scratched his jaw with the sharp tip. “Five thousand pound reward. Dead or alive, mate. And I choose dead.”
“Dammit all to blue blazes, woman,” Robin snapped, and then it was all a blur.
Nixie could barely track Robin’s movements. One second she was sure they were dead to rights, the guard lifted that enormous freaking knife and she knew, knew it was going to slam down onto Robin’s skull, but it was the guard and not Robin who suddenly stopped, eyes going wide and clutching at the hilt of a blade poking out of the hollow of his throat.
He grunted twice, and then dropped to the paved stone with a heavy thud. Robin bent over and withdrew the small knife, wiped it down on the guard’s shirt, and then sheathed it once more.
“C’mon,” Robin yanked on her hand, twisting them about, “Now we run even faster.”
“You killed him,” she muttered senselessly. A little bit in shock, but not as terrified as she maybe should have been. She’d not expected him to kill the man, but then again, their options had been limited.
“Yes.” He never paused his running as they moved through the maze of halls. Thankfully there were no more guards to surprise them.
As they ran Nixie thought about Robin’s options. About what he could have done differently. He could have wished them out of there, but then Crispin… Crispin would have likely been lost to him forever.
The guard would have killed him. There’d been no doubt of that in her mind. The way he’d looked at Robin when she’d accidentally said his name. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. But it was long enough for her to stumble and trip into him.
A man who’d killed just moments ago with ruthless efficiency didn’t turn around and berate or cuss her out for being stupid, instead he gripped her by the shoulder gently, almost tenderly.
“Pet?” The way he said it, with the worried inflection in his voice, she knew that Robin would never hurt her.
He’d done what he’d done to protect, not just himself, but her as well. This wasn’t Earth. There was a Wild West mentality to law out here, kill or be killed.
Hadn’t she done the same to Josiah?
“You killed him,” she mumbled, knowing they didn’t have the time to dawdle, but needing to get it out all the same. “You could have wished—”
His thumb traced the line of her neck. They were still wearing their masks, and she wished for a second that they didn’t need the anonymity of them, that she could see him fully without it.
“No. I couldn’t.”
She nodded. “Crispin?”
He was silent for a heartbeat before he said, “No. Not Crispin.”
Then there were no more words, and this time when his fingers slipped through hers, she squeezed his back.
He’d killed to protect them, and God help her, but she was pretty sure that if she’d been in his shoes, she would have done the same. And as much as she wanted to dwell on it, she knew she couldn’t.
It was over. And now they had to save themselves.
It felt like hours that they ran through the maze of tunnels, before they finally managed to escape out into the safety of the courtyard that led directly to the woods behind.
Robin had kept his head on a swivel after that one incident with the guard, and maybe it was his special sight, but they’d not encountered anyone else after that.
It also helped that there’d been such a mass exodus that everything had been thrown into utter anarchy. Apart from that one incident, they’d gotten out of there unnoticed.
Her fingers were still tightly locked through his. And now that their lives were no longer quite so at risk she was able to think about the one thing she’d been wanting to think about for a while now. Nixie couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across her face.
That kiss.
If she were a betting woman, she’d say there was more to that thing than a simple diversionary tactic. There had to be. That kiss. Holy crap batman, that kiss had sucked out her soul.
But then the little demons of doubt started popping up in her head. Maybe he’d only kissed her to prevent her from being a sycophantic Stepford wife. But his touch had been domineering, almost branding. His kiss possessive.
Or was it?
She tripped over a tree root, nearly falling flat on her face. Only Robin’s hold on her kept her upright.
Heart pumping a mile a minute in her chest, she paused, gasping for breath and leaned against the trunk.
“We need to put as much distance between us and this place, Nix,” Robin whispered, shoving his mask off completely and chucking it violently into the woods.
They’d been running for about fifteen minutes now. It wasn’t that Nix was out of shape, although she hadn’t exactly been running marathons out here in Kingdom, but her mind was in disarray.
“Are you okay now?” he asked and it was the tenderness in his voice that made her brave enough to nod.
“Yes, I think I’m good now.”
“And what I had to do back there?” he said it slowly. “Are you okay wi
th that? You do know I would never—”
She placed a finger upon his lips. “It’s over. I’m over it. I know why you did it, and,” she shrugged, “I’m okay with it. Maybe that’s wrong of me, but I think I’ve lived in Kingdom too long now for to bother me the way it once would have.”
He inhaled deeply. “Good.” He frowned, glancing over his shoulder. “But I fear we’re not alone in these woods. If you’d like, I would order you into your lamp, but—”
“Don’t do that, I don’t like being in there.” She gulped down two more deep breaths, shoved a sweaty strand of hair out of her eyes, and nodded. “I’m good. I’m fine now.”
His thumb stroked the hollow of her throat. “I know you have questions, and this time I’ll answer them all. Only let us get to safety first. Aye?”
Stomach curling with desire and so much damn heat she thought she might combust, she gave him a quick, but silent, nod.
They ran off again and his grip on her hand never relaxed. Robin was right; the woods were alive with the sounds of others. Maybe those running away, maybe even knights, she didn’t know.
All she cared about was getting somewhere that she could ask her questions. They kept running for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only an hour later.
Both of them dripped with sweat by the time he finally stopped.
The woods confused her. Every part of it looked the same to her. They could have done nothing but run in circles for all she knew, the only thing was, she could no longer spy even a glimpse of the castle’s spires.
“Bloody hell, that was close,” Robin swore, finally releasing her hand so that he could brush down his body.
Nixie was riveted, held spellbound by him as he drew his shirt up over his head. The way the moonlight bathed his lean, muscled torso, she had to bite her tongue to stave off the thought of walking up to him and licking a line straight up his chest.
Not that she was into sweat drinking, but damn. He had a fighter’s body; even the silvery lines of scars crisscrossing his pecs did nothing to detract from the beauty of his magnificent form.
Only once she turned her eyes up to his face did she see his eyes glowing like chem lights. She smirked. Nixie was starting to understand just what that meant, and she took a minute step forward.
Robin held up his hand. “Don’t,” he grunted, “just…just stay there a moment and give me a second.”
Frustrated beyond belief and ready to cry, she also understood the necessity of what he was doing. Her magical chastity belt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
They stood in silence for so long that even the woods seemed to echo with the sound of it. No bugs chirped, no beasts growled, everything was just…silent.
She curled her hands into fists, willing her body to calm down. Willing her nipples to stop being so erect and painful even when a slight caress of breeze caused her dress to rub against them.
It felt like hours before Robin finally spoke up. “So now you know why.”
“About Crispin?”
“Yes.” He nodded, shoving blunt fingers through his hair and causing the tips of it to stand up a little.
It was sheer force of will that kept her eyes off his chest. But even just looking at his face wasn’t that much better.
“But also about the secrecy, why I couldn’t share it with you?”
Nixie shoved her mask off her face, feeling silly to still be wearing it.
Nixie had begun to wonder if it was mere jealousy that’d caused Robin to want to bring his brother as low as he now was. But her opinions had completely altered tonight.
“I’m still not quite sure why you couldn’t have told me ahead of time about him, though why you wished him off the throne is pretty obvious now.”
The castle that’d seemed so inviting and warm had been nothing short of terrifying once the scales had fallen off her eyes.
“Because he compelled me years ago to keep silent on his gifts. The only people who know what he truly is, are my men and myself. And now you.”
Robin had been compelled to say nothing. She felt kind of dumb for not suspecting that might be the case.
“But I thought you couldn’t be compelled anymore?”
He shook his head. “I can’t now. But that command took hold years before my resistance to him took hold. I can only speak of this to you now because you know.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, Robin.”
“It is what it is,” he answered glumly.
Awkward silence stretched between them for a moment. Robin hadn’t been keeping her out of the loop just to be nasty or high-handed, he honestly hadn’t been able to tell her. It actually made her feel a little bit better to think it.
“He looks just like you.” She wasn’t sure why those were the first words to fall out of her mouth, but seeing a perfect replica of Robin’s face saying those things, it’d shaken her to her very core. “He could have any woman he wanted, he could—”
A soft, but cocky grin tipped the corner of Robin’s jaw.
“What I mean is…” she stuttered, tripping over her words, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Not just her cheeks, but also the tips of her ears heated at those words.
Great, Nix, why don’t you tell him you want to have his kids too while you’re at it?
“Save me my pride, and just let me believe you meant it the way I took it.” His smile warmed her to her toes. But then he turned serious once again. “To understand this story, I suppose I should tell it to you from the beginning, and why this realm has fallen into such evil hands.”
Twisting the ring on his finger he looked, not nervous, but thoughtful.
“Crispin and I were born years ago. Over two hundred by Earth time.”
She frowned. “But your story has been around for centuries.”
“Some fairy’s doing, no doubt.” He shrugged. “There is a thought here in Kingdom that when a fairy touches pen to paper and breathes a story to life, she’s not just writing a tale, but giving us life as well. If you say my story is that old, I believe you. Though I’ve yet to read the thing in its entirety.”
“Why?” Nixie wanted to touch him. To hold his hand and rub her thumb along his knuckles. To ground herself in the reality of his existence. In some ways it felt like she was outside of herself—here, but not quite here either. An outsider in a strange world full of mythical beings and creatures she could not understand.
Robin sat, and then proceeded to lie down in the thick carpet of grass. “Come lie next to me, pet, so that I may hold your hand.”
Her lips twitched. “Did you read my mind?”
“I see truth, Nix, of all forms.” His smile turned her insides to mush.
She could say no, but she didn’t want to. Toeing off her silver sandals, she went over to him and lay down beside him.
Robin rolled over, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her flush to his body, just like they had last night. And though she felt the jab of his hard length poke against her bottom, he was a gentleman.
They lay like that for a while, getting used to each other’s breathing, working through the anxiety of being so close and still unable to give in fully to the temptation. If not as together as she might have liked, he was with her, he was holding her, his heat suffusing her own.
She wished she could stay in this moment forever. One of her favorite things to do with Eric had been the cuddling more than the sex, not that the sex hadn’t been fun. But she’d always felt the connection grew deeper with just the caressing.
Sighing, she snuggled her head into the crook of his elbow as his fingers played through her curls.
“We don’t read our own tales, because they can be, at times, almost self-fulfilling prophecies.”
She frowned, but she forgot her question, when his hand moved ever so gently from her hair down along the length of her ribs.
“If our books say we’re to meet our grisly end at claws of some beast, well, you can see the problem. Aye?”
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She nodded.
“I’ve no knowledge how I’ll take down Crispin, but I know I’ll will.”
Nixie shook her head. Understanding now why her father had always hated the fairy stories. “Robin, Crispin doesn’t even exist in those stories. Your villain is the Sherriff of Nottingham.”
He chuckled. “And there is your answer then. Though there are truths to the tales, they’re stretched so thin and sparingly as to make it impossible to tell what is fact and what is fiction.”
Fiction.
Was she fiction?
Had Danika lied to her?
Even if she was the supposed Marian, did that mean she and Robin were meant to be? Or was this, as he’d said, a self-fulfilling prophecy? She wanted it to be true, and so therefore was she orchestrating events to make it happen?
“You’ve gone stiff,” he whispered. “Nixie, I don’t—”
Not knowing what he might say, but knowing that she needed to change the subject before it went places it couldn’t, she said, “Tell me about Crispin.”
He released a sound like he’d been punched before he gave a soft chuckle. “Smart woman.”
She tried, but failed, to keep the answering grin off her face.
“Crispin. My brother.”
His hand stopped moving, and finally she could breathe, even though she hadn’t minded the not breathing either.
“To understand him, you’d need to go back to the beginning. To the day he killed my mother and father...”
Chapter 17
She rolled over, until now she faced him, and even in the thick darkness, he could read the startled surprise in her eyes. “He killed your parents? His own mother and father?”
It amazed him sometimes how wrong he’d gotten her. She’d killed, herself. He’d thought her heartless and cruel when he’d first found his genie. Now, he could not see her in that light. She’d killed protecting an innocent. The situation between her and his brother had been entirely different.
Robin tucked a curl of hair behind her ear, biting the corner of his lip hard, to help ground him and remind him to stop. Help him to pull his hand back to his side.
Her curves were so soft and warm and generous in just the right places. He wanted to lose himself in her body, in her scent, felt her wetness coat his fingers once more. Only the thought of causing her more pain made him keep still. He hoped she didn’t feel the sudden tremble roll through him.