Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5)

by Kristen Ashley

  He did the affectionate.

  This meant he stopped half a foot from me so I could smell his cologne, a fresh, spicy scent I quite liked, his head tilted down so his eyes could hold mine.

  “This gig, you know, the one I’m tryin’ to help you get used to?” he began.

  I nodded.

  “Part of it is bein’ in a place where, when you got shit on your mind and you got someone who cares about you, they’re there for you to unload it on,” he explained.

  “There are things I need to work through myself.”

  “I hear you, sweetheart, but from what happened at dinner, thinkin’ that you might wanna stop doin’ that for a while, unload your shit on me, someone who’s thinking a whole lot clearer, and let me help you work through those things, maybe give you ideas of where you could go from here.”

  I drew in breath to calm the additional warmth that pronouncement caused in my belly.

  One could say that Antoine was many things, nearly all of them good, and part of those many things was that he was intelligent and he was strong.

  However, he did not have that kind of strength. There was much he depended upon me to do. His upkeep, for one, as before he came to be committed only to me, he was a Fleuridian prostitute. Decisions about our home, servants, travel, money matters were other matters he looked to me to see to. He had a good deal saved from his earnings when he’d plied his trade, something which he was in great demand to do. Earnings I’d demanded he keep saved for no one knew what the future would bring and I was capable of taking care of us both, this something he had no qualms about accepting.

  Antoine had been sensitive. He’d been caring. He’d been decent and kind to all, not only me. He’d had a flippant sense of humor I relished. And he, like Noc, had a way of seeing deeper inside me than I’d wished (at first) for him to see.

  And he was exceptional in bed (obviously).

  But he was not that man. He was not Frey to my Finnie, Lahn to my Circe, Tor to my Cora, Apollo to my Madeleine.

  He might listen to my problems, but then he’d ask, “So what do you intend to do, mon ange?”

  He would never say, “This is what you should think about doing.” And definitely never, “This is what you’re going to do because this is what’s best for you.”

  Living my life, I would never admit, even to myself, that I found making every decision—from the small to the grand—draining, and the very idea of living the whole of my life with that burden mine alone was exhausting.

  To share a burden not simply with someone to listen to it, but to assist me in seeing past it, felt like a gift so precious, it outshone chests five times as large as the one I owned filled with Sjofn diamonds.

  “Frannie,” Noc called and I focused on his face.

  “I had my plans,” I blurted, “and now they’re thwarted.”

  His expression grew understanding as he gently commanded, “Sit down, baby, I’ll order some whiskey and tell you my idea.”

  He had an idea, and I assumed it was not aiding me in an intricate scheme to spirit Josette, Irene and I into the night taking us someplace no one would find us (until Frey found us, of course).

  I sat.

  Noc, bizarrely determined to carry on doing mundane things I suspected he had to do in his world but he didn’t have to do in mine, went to the windows and drew the drapes. He then stirred the fire, added a couple of logs on it, and whilst doing this, ordered our whiskey from the servant who’d arrived.

  I understood why he went about these efforts when the warm glow of the fire became a radiating blaze, taking away any chill, enveloping us in snug intimacy in a way neither of us would have to call for a servant (or in Noc’s case, get up and do it himself) to add more fuel to the fire for some time.

  The decanter of whiskey came quickly and the servant had barely laid the tray on the table between our chairs before Noc thanked him and started pouring.

  “And close the door behind you, would you?” he called.

  “Yes, sir.” We heard murmured and the door clicked.

  Noc handed me my cut crystal glass filled with two fingers of whiskey.

  Quite a dose.

  And it was a dose that made me wonder with even more curiosity about his idea.

  “All right, Noc, you stated you had an idea, so perhaps you’ll break the suspense and share,” I prompted as he took a sip from his own glass.

  I did the same as he lowered his and started speaking.

  “Finnie and Frey have a few things they gotta sort out here before we take off, which I think is mostly her way of delaying ’cause she likes spending time with her mom,” he declared.

  “This doesn’t exactly end the suspense,” I replied when he shared no further.

  He grinned at me. “What I’m sayin’ is, we’re probably gonna be around awhile and that while will take us until at least the time your brother leaves.”

  This meant five more days of being able to spend time with Noc.

  I found it alarming just how much this pleased me.

  Really, did I not adore my Antoine at all?

  I fought shifting uncomfortably in my chair as Noc continued talking.

  “And you’ve got another choice other than going with your brother or going with the queen,” he said then promptly announced, “You can come with us.”

  I felt my body start in surprise at this offer.

  “I—” I began.

  “Givin’ you this idea to think on, Frannie,” he interrupted me to say. “Not make a decision right here and now.”

  I took a sip of whiskey to sort my thoughts.

  After I’d swallowed, carefully, I shared, “Noc, this is a kind offer and I’m glad for it. But my plan of going across the Green Sea was not as foolhardy as people believe. There was a reason I made that choice and I did so even understanding the risks it brought. Josette chose to accompany me understanding those same risks.”

  “You wanna get away from anything that reminds you of your parents or Antoine.”

  I closed my mouth, astonished he’d guessed so accurately.

  I opened it to say, “I’ve been to Bellebryn and I’ve been with Antoine. We took a holiday there once. He’d never been. He enjoyed it greatly.”

  “Babe—”

  I spoke over him. “There was more to Josette and my adventure than eluding my past. I’ve deduced that it’s likely on an adventure you’re experiencing so many things, you can think of nothing but what you’re experiencing.”

  “You can’t escape your problems, sweetheart, or your emotions,” he told me gently. “They got a way of not letting go.”

  He was undoubtedly right.

  “Yes, but when other things are prevalent and they are that for a good period of time, those emotions have a way of fading away.”

  “You got me there,” he muttered.

  “In other words, I did know what I was doing, Noc, and now I don’t. Now my options are limited. And although I’d enjoy spending time with my brother, meeting my niece or nephew when he or she arrives, something I did not know which I now have to take into account, I think both of us can agree the time is ripe for a variety of changes in my life. And I feel, the sooner I see to them will be the better.”

  “Come home with me.”

  I froze in my seat, my eyes locked on him.

  Noc did not freeze.

  He continued.

  “Valentine says she’ll take care of it all. And maybe we can give her some of the gold we got to bring us back if you get homesick. I can take a vacation, experience more of this world then. But now, or after your brother leaves, I won’t go with Finnie and Frey and instead take you back to my world with me.”

  I sat mute and immobile, unable to take my eyes off him, but my mind was awhirl with hundreds of thoughts.

  Maybe thousands.

  But the one that repeatedly churned through the others was Noc’s attractive voice saying the words, Come home with me.

  “Frey already aske
d her,” he carried on. “It’s all set. You gotta get away, there’s no further away than there, Frannie. And if you want an adventure to get your mind off shit, that’ll be the biggest adventure you can have, there aren’t any pirates and I’ll be there to keep you safe.”

  I’ll be there to keep you safe.

  By the goddess, he must stop.

  “Noc—” I began in an effort to make him do that.

  He reached across the table between us, caught my hand that was resting on the arm of my chair and laced his fingers through mine.

  He had very long fingers. Competent-looking. Most appealing.

  Bloody hell.

  “Don’t decide on that right now either,” he urged. “You got time to think about it. But, babe,” he smiled and that was most appealing too. Always. “I’d love to show you my world. And you won’t be alone there. You’ll have Valentine. And Circe lives where we live too. She’s already gone back and from what she’s said, she can use a few friends who know her like we’d know her. You’ll have people. You’ll have resources. You’ll be good. You’ll be safe.” His smile got wider. “And you’ll be in New Orleans so you’ll have good music, great fucking food and every opportunity to have a shit ton of fun.”

  I finally managed to string a thought together.

  “I couldn’t ask you not to take your adventure in order to give me mine.”

  “I get vacation days, toss a couple gold coins Valentine’s way, I’m back and I’ll get it.”

  “Noc, that’s most kind but it’d be selfish of me even to consider.”

  “Happily give up my adventure for a different one, that bein’ givin’ you yours.”

  It appeared he was going to be difficult to dissuade.

  Worse, as I was able to string together further thoughts, I was wondering why I would try.

  I did manage to note, “There’s Josette to consider. And my new maid, Irene.”

  “Don’t know about this Irene, Frannie. Havin’ a lady’s maid isn’t something people have in my world, much less having two. As for Josette, she’s your girl and I’d get you’d want her with you. But she was willing to cross the Green Sea with you, don’t think she’d back off from traveling to a parallel universe.”

  Troublingly, I suspected Josette would follow me straight to hell if I guided her there. I treasured that loyalty even if I didn’t know how I’d earned it.

  A place with such fanciful things as motorcycles and phones, if she was right there in the room with us, she’d say yes for the both of us before I could utter another noise.

  “Frannie, it’s a good deal and you know it,” Noc pressed. “Better than whatever you wanted to see on another continent in this world. Hell, you eat a bite you’ll wonder why you didn’t say yes before I finished making the offer when you have pizza.”

  I knew I shouldn’t ask.

  But I asked.

  “What’s pizza?”

  “Tangy tomato sauce, smooth cheese, spicy sausage, all baked on top of a doughy crust with crispy, chewy edges. You got killer food here, Frannie, but the minute I get home, I’m getting a slice, and if you’re with me, I’m getting you one too. Extra cheese and pepperoni.”

  I liked tangy sauce, smooth cheese and sausage.

  I also liked bread.

  No, I adored bread.

  Drat.

  “I must think on this, Noc,” I told him, and it was true.

  What also was true was that there was no reason not to take this alternate adventure, except I’d be even further away from my brother.

  Though, if Valentine was but a coin or two away from bringing me home, I had many of those and I could be back with him and his family faster and safer than I could return across the Green Sea.

  No, it was Noc that was the concern.

  Noc and just how much I liked spending time with him.

  And just how wrong that was.

  “More options,” he stated and my focus sharpened on him. “I go do my thing with Finnie and Frey and the rest, you go back with your brother. Few months, maybe after the baby’s born and you know it’s all good with that, Valentine takes us home. I get my gig here, you get your time with your family, then we take our adventure.”

  My.

  Now that might be workable.

  Months away from Noc would mean I could get my head sorted about him, for surely it was his attention and kindness all bundled in the alluring package that was him and handed to me at a time when I was at my most vulnerable that was muddling it.

  I missed Antoine. I’d lost him forever.

  Perhaps as a coping mechanism, my mind was searching for an alternate, even if this was wrong and disloyal.

  That had to be it.

  “Yeah?” Noc prompted.

  “Yes,” I replied. “I’ll think on that option too, Noc.”

  A grin from him and a heartfelt, “Great, baby.”

  Looking pleased with himself, he gave my hand a squeeze, let it go and turned to the fire, lifting his glass.

  I did the same.

  “Pizza. Phones. Bikes,” Noc’s voice came again. “TV. Movies. Computers. Football.” I turned my head to him just in time to see him do the same my way. “And you know I like you when I promise to take you to the shoe department at Nordstrom.”

  “Do they have a nice selection of slippers?” I queried.

  His grin this time was different. It made my breath catch and my nipples contract.

  Worse, he did it leaning across the table toward me and his voice was lower, deeper, like he was sharing a delicious secret when he spoke next.

  “Baby, just you wait and see.”

  My.

  I gave myself a hearty inward shake and pulled myself together.

  “I do believe, Master Noc, that you’re taking unfair advantage by applying not-so-subtle pressure for me to fall in with your plans.”

  He sat back, lifted his glass and warned, “You don’t come to me after you have breakfast with your brother tomorrow and tell me you’re in, get used to that over the next few days, Frannie.”

  Wonderful.

  I looked from him in a patented Franka Drakkar dismissive way and took another sip of my whiskey, only to do this hearing Noc’s chuckle.

  Gods.

  “You’re gonna look good in spike heels,” Noc remarked.

  Spike heels?

  Intriguing.

  “Cease,” I demanded.

  He ignored me.

  “And a little black dress.”

  “Cease,” I snapped.

  “Wearin’ both at midnight sittin’ across from me at Café du Monde after we did the town, kicked back listening to live jazz, got drunk on Bourbon Street, eating a beignet caked with powdered sugar and drinking coffee with chicory.”

  Jazz? What was that?

  And a beignet? I had no clue what that was but anything caked with a substance called “powdered sugar” had to be delicious, didn’t it?

  I turned my head to glower at him.

  “Noc. Cease!” I insisted.

  “Shrimp étoufée.”

  I loved prawns.

  “Quiet.”

  “Avenues lined with five hundred-year-old oak trees and graceful antebellum mansions.”

  I definitely loved mansions.

  “Quiet!”

  “Spicy-hot jambalaya.”

  I’d had enough.

  “Would you care to wear my whiskey?” I asked mock sweetly.

  “No, baby,” he muttered amusedly.

  “Then kindly cease speaking.”

  “Like a cat, curious, aren’t you, Frannie?” he teased. “Gonna eat you up, you don’t come home with me.”

  Come home with me.

  Blast!

  I turned again to face the fire, announcing, “I’m ignoring you now.”

  “Give that five minutes, which is as long as you can keep that shit up,” he accepted, doing so to my frustration because I suspected he was right.

  And he was right.

&nb
sp; Though fortunately, when he pulled me back into conversation, he did so not tempting me with strange words that piqued my curiosity, but instead with thoughtful ones that coaxed me to talk about how I felt about my brother’s behavior at dinner and how we were both getting on otherwise since he’d arrived.

  Thus we spent a pleasant hour drinking whiskey but not doing so becoming inebriated. Just enjoying pleasant company.

  But this time, when it was over, I didn’t sweep from the room.

  Noc walked me to the door to my bedchamber and kissed my temple before he opened it and scooted me in with a light hand on the small of my back.

  And last, he gave me a soft smile that I could swear held a promise I didn’t quite understand before he closed the door behind me and I lost sight of him.

  Chapter Nine

  Strict Life Edict

  Franka

  The next morning, I walked into the breakfast room to see only Brikkita there, finishing up her crêpes.

  She looked up at me, startled, as if she had no idea I would be arriving at breakfast when Kristian and I had made that plan the night before, something I would assume he’d share with his wife.

  “Good morning, Brikkita,” I greeted, selecting a seat across from her at the oval table.

  “Good morning, Franka,” she replied timidly, the manner in which she always spoke to me, a manner I’d always found irksome¸ but one I now understood was a manner I’d earned.

  Therefore, hearing it now, I was irked at myself.

  I’d barely sat and tossed the napkin at the waiting place setting over my lap before a footman came forward to pour my coffee.

  I prepared it with cream and one sugar and had taken a sip, regarding my sister-in-law, who kept her head studiously bent to her plate as she fixedly scraped up the last of her crêpes.

  “Did you sleep well?” I asked.

  She lifted her eyes to me for a scant second before returning them to her plate and answered, “The palace has comfortable beds.”

  I decided that meant yes.

  “And Timofei? Did he have a good night?” I queried.

  Her glance lasted longer before she put down her fork and reached for her coffee cup, avoiding my eyes. “He was restless. He’s not woken us like this repeatedly in the night since he was first born. I hope the queen was right and he’ll grow out of it.”