Charming Marjani

by Rebecca Rivard

  Weak.

  She dragged a weary hand over her face, her mouth gritty. “I’d kill for a glass of water.”

  “Yeah.” He squared his shoulders, but his lean face was gaunt. The man was running on fumes.

  Then they both froze as a door opened in the unending white wall, but it was only Ula, dressed for bed in a plain cotton nightgown, her hair in a long black braid. In her hand was a large glass of nectar.

  “You didn’t get this from me.” She shoved it at Fane.

  He took it and handed it to Marjani. “You first.”

  “No, you.”

  “Hurry,” the river fada hissed. “Arne’s distracting him, but I don’t have much time.”

  “We’ll split it.” Marjani drained half the glass. It was just what she needed, quenching her thirst and spreading warmth through her tired and chilled body.

  She handed the nectar to Fane, and he gulped down the rest before returning the empty glass to Ula. He touched her arm. “Thank you.”

  “Yes.” Marjani gave her a quick hug.

  The other woman jerked her head in acknowledgement, and then slipped back through the door. It closed behind her and the wall smoothed out as if nothing was there.

  Fane rubbed his forehead. “Was she really here, or was that just another hallucination?”

  “She was here.” Marjani rose on her toes to whisper, “We have a deal, me and her. When I get home, I promised to give a message to her family, but I think she would’ve helped us anyway.”

  He nodded. “She’s a good woman,” he whispered back. “And thank the gods for that, because I feel much better.”

  They kissed, and for a few seconds, Marjani forgot all about Sindre and the maze as a warm, needful ache spread through her lower abdomen.

  The quartz was outside her hoodie, nestled on her chest between them. Fane lifted his head and traced his fingers down her neck. A lazy turquoise light swirled inside the smoky gray and purple, and he lightly stroked a thumb over it.

  Marjani tensed, but it didn’t hurt—it felt good. She lifted her gaze to his. “No one can touch our quartzes but close friends or family—or a mate.”

  “Sorry.” He lifted his thumb. “I didn’t know.”

  “Don’t be.” She moved his thumb back to the quartz. “When it’s you touching me, it feels good, like you’re stroking me.”

  “Yeah?” His grin was wicked. “Like I’m stroking you where?”

  She slanted him a look from beneath her lashes. “Where do you think?”

  Against her belly, his cock jerked and lengthened. “You’re a bad woman to tease me right now.”

  “Am I?” She extended a single claw and scraped it down his cheek, shadowed with his night beard. “I think I like being bad.”

  “Hold that thought, okay?” He put his mouth to her ear. “When we get out of here, I’m going to fuck you, so hard. But right now we have a maze to solve. And I have an idea. The illusions are designed to trick our senses, right?”

  She pulled back to look up at him. “Yeah. Why?”

  “The eyes are easier to trick than the sense of touch. So why don’t we try closing our eyes? Then we can feel our way along the wall and—”

  “We should be able to tell what’s really there,” she finished, hope springing up in her. “Let’s try it.”

  They agreed that Fane would lead while she held onto him so they wouldn’t lose each other. She looped the fingers of her left hand through his belt, setting the other hand on the wall.

  “Ready,” she said, closing her eyes, and he started walking. Within seconds, the wall changed and straightened out.

  She caught her breath. “I think it’s working.”

  “Me, too.” He picked up the pace.

  Another ten minutes had passed when they heard a high-pitched gibbering. Goblins, and from the sound of it, headed straight for them.

  Her eyes flew open.

  “This way.” Fane jerked her into a tiny alcove with barely enough room for them to stand side by side.

  The gibbering grew louder. A small pack of the short, wild-eyed creatures streamed around a curve, animal skins draped over their shoulders and tied around their thick waists as loin cloths, pointed teeth gleaming. Their stench hit her like a shovel to the gut.

  She slapped a hand to her mouth and tried not to wretch. “No illusion.”

  “Yep. Pretty sure those fuckers are real.” He took short, shallow breaths.

  “Take this.” She released the catch on her switchblade and shoved it at him. “I’ll fight clawed.”

  “Have I mentioned I haven’t a bloody idea how to use this thing?”

  “It’s iron. You don’t have to know how to use it.” She kept her gaze on the screeching goblins. “Just cut them anywhere and it will hurt. Even better, aim for their eyes—or balls.”

  “Remind me never to make you angry.”

  The pack was almost upon them—only five goblins. Sindre was giving them a sporting chance.

  She bared her teeth and took a fighting stance, knees bent, claws out.

  Beside her, Fane mirrored her stance, the switchblade up and ready, his other arm bent at the elbow to block blows. He gestured with one hand. “Come on, you bastards.”

  In spite of their danger, she let out a huff of amusement. The man was a fast learner—or a talented actor. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was a trained soldier.

  With a howl, the goblins were upon them.

  But this time, Marjani and Fane had the advantage. The two of them might be outnumbered, but they had their backs to the wall, so the goblins had to attack them head-on.

  And she had cat-fast reflexes. Even Fane was slashing the knife through the air lightning-fast, parrying each attempt to jump him. So he hadn’t lost that part of his Gift, maybe because it wasn’t magical, just part of his genes.

  A goblin aimed his sharp teeth at her leg, but she slammed the toe of her sneaker into his balls and he collapsed with a groan. She tore out its neck with her claws—and then spun to the left and took out another goblin’s eye.

  A third jumped at her—a female, this time. She caught her in mid-air and wrenched her head to one side. Her neck broke with an audible snap. Two more goblins came at Marjani—the one with the missing eye and a new one, and she quickly and efficiently took them down, too.

  She turned to the last goblin just as Fane got in a lucky jab to the goblin’s throat. Blood spurted from the goblin’s artery, and he wavered and then crumpled to the tiles. They’d won, with only a few minor cuts to show for it.

  Marjani dragged in a breath as Fane shot her an exuberant grin. “How’d I do?”

  “Not bad.” She smiled back, amused at his elation. But that was adrenaline from the fight. “I’ll make a fighter out of you yet. And now, if I can have my switchblade back?”

  He handed it over, and she methodically stabbed the long, thin blade into the heart of each of the five goblins. When she looked up again, Fane looked a little pale under his tan.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “But they have magical blood, same as us. I have to make sure they’re really dead.” She wiped the blood on an animal skin and slipped the knife back into her pocket.

  “No need to apologize. You’re right.” He let out a long breath. “We’re close. That’s why he sent the goblins.”

  “The end is also the beginning,” she murmured. “Make the wrong choice and you’ll never get home.”

  “What?”

  “It’s just something Jewel said.” She rubbed her arm over her forehead. “Have you noticed that as soon as we recognize an illusion, it disappears?”

  He nodded as they started walking again. “But those goblins were no illusion.”

  “No.”

  She stopped in her tracks as it hit her. Sindre’s illusions were designed for humans. If she shifted, her cougar might see through them where her human mind couldn’t.

  “What is it?” Fane frowned down on her.

  Her gut tingle
d. This could work. She knew it.

  But would her cougar cooperate?

  He’ll use your greatest weakness against you.

  She dug her nails into her palms. I can’t go feral. I have too much to live for.

  But Fane was here to help if she had any trouble, the mate bond strong and steady between them.

  And maybe her greatest weakness wasn’t her cougar, but her fear of it. That the cat would take over, that she’d become a feral.

  You're not an animal. You're a fada. I’m pretty sure that means accepting every part of you.

  Fane was right. She had to stop fighting the cougar. To trust it, which really meant trusting herself—because her cougar wasn’t a weakness, it was a strength.

  “I have an idea.” She grabbed Fane’s arm. “I think if I changed to cougar, I could see through the illusion. The maze might not even detect me. Fae spells have trouble recognizing fada in their animal forms.”

  “So you’re going to shift?”

  She nodded. “When I’m done, grab hold of my fur and don’t let go, even if it looks like I’m walking through a wall.”

  “Okay.” No argument, just a confident nod. “Don’t worry, I trust you.”

  He meant it. Through the bond, she felt his unquestioning belief in her. It both shattered her heart and healed it at the same time.

  She dragged off her clothes and stuffed them in the backpack, keeping nothing but her quartz.

  Fane shrugged into the pack and then pulled her into a kiss. A deep, thorough kiss—his hard body against hers, his shirt silky against her bare nipples. Through his pants, his cock nudged against her mound, thick and insistent.

  Need curled through her. Deep within, the cat rubbed up against her skin, purring.

  He lifted his head, blue eyes dark with wanting. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Marjani gave a little shake of her head to clear it.

  “What was that for?”

  “I just want you to remember that I love you.”

  “Oh, I will.” She pressed a kiss to the soft hollow at the base of his throat, and then stepped back, fingers wrapped around her quartz.

  “You got this,” he said with complete confidence.

  “Yeah.” Because she did. She believed in herself—and her cat.

  And I am not weak.

  Taking a deep breath, she let herself resonate with the tiny crystals, but before she could shift, Fane disappeared. What the fuck?

  “Fane?” Heart thumping, she aborted the shift. “Where are you?” She turned in a circle.

  No answer.

  “Fane?” she called louder. And then she screamed his name. “Fane! Where are you?”

  Somewhere nearby, Sindre breathed a soft laugh. She didn’t know how she knew it was him, but she did.

  Anger blazed through her. “You can’t do this, you asshole. We’re supposed to solve the maze together.”

  Cool fingers touched her bare shoulder. She whipped around to find the ice fae king looking down at her.

  His mouth curved. “That wasn’t part of the bargain.”

  36

  “Jani?” Fane scrubbed his hands over his face and looked again, but she’d disappeared.

  What felt like a giant fist squeezed his lungs.

  “Jani!” he roared. “Where are you?”

  But he was alone in a small room. No, make that an ice cave. No windows. No doors. And the icy blue walls reached twenty feet high.

  “No,” he rasped.

  Because Sindre didn’t want Fane—he wanted Marjani. In fact, the king might intend to let Fane rot in this small, confined space.

  And Marjani would be forced to accept Sindre’s geas, because the bargain said they both had to escape the castle by dawn.

  Fane ran his hands over the icy walls, desperately searching for a hidden door or window, or even just a crack in the smooth surface. Anything that would get him out of here and back to his mate. But he worked his way around the entire room without any luck.

  He eyed the wall. On a good day, he might be able to leap high enough to grab the top and then swing his legs up and over. But he was tired and Gift-less.

  He felt Sindre smile.

  His spine tingled. He glanced around, even though he knew he was alone in the room.

  “You’re a bloody prick, you know that?”

  Silence, but snow began to fall.

  He gave a savage grin. Damn, it felt good to finally tell Sindre what he thought of him.

  Adrenaline surged through him. Backing up, he took a running leap at the opposite wall, but he only made it three quarters of the way up before he dropped back to the floor.

  Hell.

  Shrugging out of the backpack, he took a deep breath and tried again. The third try, he almost made it, his fingers just six inches from the top. He tried to scramble the last few inches, but the wall was too smooth. He slid back to the floor, losing a couple of buttons off his shirt in the process.

  He tried again. And again, until he was bent over, hands on his thighs, sucking in oxygen.

  Mind over matter.

  He eyed the wall. Sindre had stolen his Gift, but as a former wayfarer who could make himself virtually invisible, Fane knew something about illusions himself.

  As he’d told Marjani, they only worked if the viewer believed in them.

  He heard the murmur of voices and stilled. Marjani and Sindre.

  No fucking way.

  She’s mine, you bastard. My mate. My beautiful cat.

  He took a deep breath to calm himself. Sindre was messing with his head.

  Forget him. Think about Marjani instead. Focus on the mate bond—you can use it to get to her.

  Warmth filled his chest, and he felt a strong but invisible thread connecting him to his mate. He straightened his spine and stared at the wall in the direction the thread seemed to be coming from. Was that an opening?

  It disappeared.

  Don’t fight it. His strength was going with the flow. He needed to remember that.

  He grabbed the backpack and let his gaze soften and relax. Yes. There.

  Keeping that soft, hazy focus, he walked through the wall.

  Marjani glared at the ice fae king. “What do you mean, that wasn’t part of the bargain?”

  His chiseled lips curved. “The two of you solving the maze together. I don’t recall promising that.”

  Marjani replayed the wording of the bargain in her mind. He was right. All he’d said was that both she and Fane had to escape the castle by dawn. Nothing in the bargain said they had to do it together.

  Thrice-damned fucking fae.

  Her growl actually had him backing up a step, but he recovered quickly.

  “What would you give me for this, I wonder?” He raised a hand. Dangling from his fingers was the substitute quartz; the one Blaer had stolen from Marjani.

  She swiped at it, just to throw him off.

  “No, Marjani, mín.” He closed his fingers around the milky chunk of rock. “I think I’ll hang onto it for now.”

  She shrugged. “You do that.”

  The fae king eyed her. “I thought you earth fada needed your quartz.”

  “We do. But I can get by without it.” She looked at the quartz in his hand as she spoke, so it was perfectly true. She could get by without that quartz.

  Her own quartz was hidden against her side, her fingers holding it loosely so her hand appeared empty. Thank the gods Fane had suggested the substitution.

  “Where did you get it, anyway?” she asked. “I thought it was lost.”

  “This?” The king tossed the milky quartz lightly into the air by its leather thong, catching it on the way down. “Lady Blaer gave it to me in return for shortening the period of her banishment. She tells me I can use it to control you.” He gave it a squeeze. “Is that true?”

  She met his eyes. “No.”

  His gaze probed hers. “So one of you is…mistaken.” He muttered an incantation.

  Marjani froze. Bl
aer must have shared the secret with Sindre.

  The North African fae who’d help create the original earth fada had gifted the quartz and its special energy to them alone. But like most fae gifts, it came with an edge—with the right incantation, an earth fada’s quartz could be used to compel him or her to obey a fae.

  And the king had the complicated phrase correct in every particular.

  She forced herself to shrug. She was damned if she’d help Sindre puzzle this out. “I guess it’s Lady Blaer, then.”

  With a shrug, he pocketed the quartz. “I don’t need tricks like this anyway.” He moved closer, his voice deepening. “Marjani. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  She opened and closed her mouth like a beached fish. The man was so beautiful, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. His white-blond hair glimmered, his eyes a brilliant silver.

  He smiled, and her knees went weak. Those chiseled lips promised so much pleasure. She could almost feel them tracing over her naked breasts, making their way down to her clit…

  “Why do I want you so much?” he murmured, almost to himself. “I think it’s because you’re so serious. Life means something to you.”

  She somehow managed to find her voice. He might be beautiful, but he wasn’t Fane. “And it doesn’t to you?”

  He moved a shoulder. “I prefer it to death.”

  She stared up at him. This isn’t real. You’re not my mate.

  The bastard was using a glamour on her. She growled and the spell broke.

  The wall across from them wavered. Fane stalked through, hair dusted with snow and deep smudges beneath his eyes. His shirt had lost a few buttons, and he was breathing hard. Dark stubble had sprung up on his jaw. He looked exhausted and primitive in a way that stole her breath—and not in the artificial way that Sindre had.

  He hauled her up against him. “Get away from her, you bastard.”

  Sindre did a double take, then his brow flicked up. “You’re more powerful than I realized. Perhaps I could still use you after all.”

  “Go to Hades. I’m leaving.” He squeezed her shoulders. “With my mate.”

  The king’s jaw loosened. His gaze swung to her. “You’d choose him over me?”