Moonless (28 page)

“Because everyone sleeps.”

He tucked a finger under her chin, turning it his direction. “And lose a single instant with you?”

The door swung inward.

“There you are!” Nelly bellowed. Ethel halted behind her, fixated on the vast creeper that carpeted half the room. Her meditative frown turned questioningly to Kiren.

“Could you be a more selfish lout?” Nelly planted both fists on her wide hips.

He smiled at her. “Good morning, Nelly. Ethel, I am glad you have rejoined us.” He helped Alexia up.

The cook rallied on, “Can’t you see she’s exhausted? Look at her! What are you thinking keeping her up? And with what excitement you must have filled her head!”

He stretched, yawning.

“You two are no good for each other!” She wagged a finger, as Ethel swept past her to Alexia’s side. Nelly burned another dark look on him. He laughed.

“You have a bed awaiting.” Ethel took her arm, and Alexia was too tired to protest.

Kiren cleared his throat. “I must inform you ladies, I promised not to send her away, and so as long as she insists . . .”

They all looked at her. If Nelly’s scowl hadn’t been enough to convince her, Ethel’s patient curiosity would have done the trick.

“No, I-I will go.”

“If that is the case,” he leaned toward her, “sleep sweetly.” The warmth of his breath and scent of honeyed oak left her delirious for him. He kissed her abruptly and remained as Ethel towed her away.

“Giddy idiot,” Nelly muttered as they entered the main hall.

Ethel grinned. “Does a heart good to see him that way.”

Her benefactress brought her upstairs to the largest of the guest’s chambers where the bedding had been turned down. She helped Alexia undress and settle in.

“I have been meaning to tell you, I knew your mother, child.”

Alexia started at the news.

“I found her in the woods, like you.”

“Like me?”

“I do not know where she came from or why she wandered the forest alone—barely a child.” She brushed a lock from Alexia’s face. “She was as good as my own. When I saw her beautiful little box in your possession, I knew you for hers.”

“Dana?”

Ethel tucked the blanket up about her neck. “And no Soulless is going to harm my Dana’s child.”

She gasped. “It was you! You rescued me from the Soulless—you in the mist!”

“No, dear.” The woman smiled. “I
am
the mist.” Her fingers thinned into a haze and briefly disappeared. A second later they solidified, bearing her mother’s gift, the one she left at the cottage.

Ethel could travel like Bellezza.

“Do not be afraid.” She placed the crimson box in Alexia’s care. “You are safe here with us, always. Rest now.”

And she left.

Despite the amassing quandaries to ponder, or perhaps as a result of their abundance, Alexia was asleep the instant the door closed.

***

“Arik!”

Was that
Sarah’s
voice?

Alexia opened her eyes. A smoking pistol burned the rug where it lay, next to her hand.

She slid away from the weapon, disgusted, disoriented, frightened, confused. The back of a mahogany upholstered couch met her gaze. Father’s couch, in Father’s study!

She clambered to her feet. Sarah and John stood next to the hearth, eyes turned to the back of the room. She whirled. Kiren lay in the corner, blood defiling his white shirt, streaking the floor . . .

77

Responsibility

Kiren straightened in his seat at the kitchen table. She was awake. As if they were two magnets, he could feel Alexia’s approach, the pull increasing with every step.

Edward paced by, his bad knee wobbling as it did when he was agitated. Nelly pounded dough behind him and Ethel dried dishes while pondering the news.

Miles cleared his throat, leaning in the corner of the room. “I can confirm everything he told us. Bellezza allowed herself to be captured and claimed to be our ambassador to the Soulless. They believed we wanted to negotiate a truce.”

Kiren didn’t like that the boy knew so much. He gave Miles a frown. The lad’s head hung.

Lester tapped at the floor with a twitchy foot. “She knew what’d happen when the moonless night arrived, what with all those husks in one place. That one, she’s a wily imp.”

Kiren took a sip of his tea. “She’s plotting something other than this war. I cannot help but think it is a diversion.”

A wave of unease swept through the room.

He sucked in a breath. Alexia had reached the bottom of the stairs, and he had to end this conversation before she overheard.

“Yer lost in yer own clutter.” Nelly placed both hands on her wide hips. “Muddle-headed and bull-bellied. How’re you goin’ to do anything while
nannyin’ your sweetheart?”

Ethel stacked dishes loudly behind the cook and flashed a discouraging frown at her replacement.

Kiren’s ears perked. Her soft footfalls echoed down the hall.

Lester thumped a chair. “The demon child ain’t got but one aim, and we know what it be. I’ll go.” He winked at Kiren. “You got you some business to attend.”

He set his cup down.

Nelly’s palms slapped the table as she leaned toward Kiren. “And what do you expect to happen?”

He swiveled out of his seat without acknowledging the question. Alexia stood in the doorway, lashes batting timidly over sparkling green eyes. He approached. Her mouth fell open, a mouth he wanted to plunder, pillage, and otherwise exploit. The widening of her pupils testified she’d let him.

All eyes turned absently away as he placed a quick kiss on her lips. He ached to do more, but propriety must know some bounds. Given his own way, he would have taken her away months ago, married her, and swept her off to some remote country cottage where their greatest worry would be stoking up a fire in the evening. His world would never be that simple.

“Sleep well?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He took her hand, entwining fingers, and returned to the table. “Are there any tarts left?” He sat and pulled her up on his lap.

She flushed. He smirked and flipped his little red tome out of his pocket, gluing himself to the text.

Silence hung. He’d surprised them, surprised them all.

“Would you like butter?” Nelly asked her, recovering.

“Yes, thank you.” She tried to slip off his lap, but he tightened the arm around her. They needed to see. They needed to understand.

Heat radiated off Alexia’s skin as she wriggled, unable to reach her freedom. He apologized to her in his head while feigning over-interest in the miniature script.

“I had best return to the charts.” Edward bowed and made a hasty escape.

“Yeh, Miles,” Lester started up, but the boy was not paying attention. He was the only one openly watching them now.

Kiren shot him a thought without looking up:
Some privacy, please.

“Miles!” The lad’s attention returned to the runner. “Let’s get to that fount’n.”

He watched in his periphery as the boy nodded, and followed Lester out the back, stopping to give Alexia one last expressionless look.

“Here you go, dear.” Nelly handed her the buttered pastry. “Eat up, won’t you?”

The back door smacked shut.

Ethel rubbed her hands on her apron and exhaled. “I will be returning to those sheets. Seems someone around here does not realize when the stitching is coming loose.”

Nelly laughed. “Go back into retirement, you old goat!”

“Watch who you are calling old, Nelle-ninety!”

The cook brushed her off as Ethel departed. “How about a glass of milk?”

“Thank you.” Alexia shifted, attempting to escape again. He tugged her closer, and she gave up. “Nelly, are you really, um, ninety?”

The woman’s eyes turned to Kiren. He nodded, allowing himself to finally absorb the script before his face.

“Ninety-four. But I’m young when compared with that one.” She pointed after Ethel, her voice softening conspiratorially. “Two-hundred and sixty.”

Alexia ate, shoulders low and curled in, her back bowed as though trying to minimalize her physical presence. Kiren wished she wouldn’t. Didn’t she comprehend how important she was?

The cook finished putting dough out to rise and took her leave.

He cleared his throat. “Listen to this:” He pointed to a section of text in his tome and shifted so she had no choice but to view it, resting his chin at the back of her ear. “
‘Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.’
I agree.”

She pulled away and gave him a frown. “What are you reading?”

“Proverbs.”

“The Bible? Truly?” Her nose crinkled, lips pulled upward. “What are you, some kind of recluse parson?”

“Once.”

She blinked, smile dying. “Oh?”

“That was a long time ago.” He’d have to be more careful about his revelations of the past if he didn’t wish to upset her. He gave her a teasing smirk. “We all have to believe in something, Alexia.”

“Christianne.”

He closed his book. “God is real and he takes a direct hand in our lives.”

“Do you truly believe that?” Her eyes squeezed.

“Well, look at the evidence.” He finally let her down. “He sent me you.”

She blushed.

He kissed her bright cheeks, pausing to inhale her ambrosia scent. “Shall we go for a ride?”

She swallowed down what remained of her pastry and followed him out back.

The sun hung lazily in the west, the day warm as he saddled the horse. It would be her birthday soon. What would he do to celebrate the most wonderful event since his creation?

“I had another dream.” She placed a hand on his arm as he hefted her onto the beast. “But I cannot recall the details.”

He swung up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. She shivered, and he grinned. “They will come out in time.”

Off they plodded into the trees. He could not imagine a greater heaven than this, having her in his arms, the world and its concerns far, far away. If only he could keep it at bay.

He sighed. “Miles is angry with me, on your behalf.”

“He is?”

“Nelly, too.”

“Oh no,” she moaned.

He smirked. “I have even received one or two black looks from Edward, and much grumbling about a good-for-nothing lay-about who broke your heart.”

“I did not believe I was moping.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You have infiltrated my family so successfully that I think they like you more than they do me.”

Her head tilted back toward him. “Your family?”

He smiled.

“But you do not share traits.”

He tensed. No, they would broach that subject, but not today. He closed his eyes, opening them slowly. “There is more than one kind of family.”

She twisted in her seat. “Who are your parents? Where are they now?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?” Her brows lowered. “What happened to them?”

“Nothing.” His jaw locked.

“Kiren, please—”

“Nothing.” He glared past her at the nearing trees, unwilling to revisit the past, unwilling to resurrect that memory, unwilling to face the guilt. Still, it billowed up in his heart, like an inky black cloud, one that wanted to drown all prospects of present or future happiness. He ordered it to dissipate and held Alexia, pressing his cheek into her curls.

They covered a couple miles before he pulled to a stop. A little rock spring gurgled off to the right, florescent foliage about the grove: magnificent blues, vibrant pinks, vivid yellows and violets. The trees curved around the outskirts, shaped in the form of old friends, Passionate who had passed on.

He dismounted and reached for her.

“What is this place?” she breathed.

“My own sanctum.” He placed both hands around her waist and lifted her down. “A haven no one knows about.”

“You keep it a secret?”

“I refrain from making it known, yes.” He grinned. “It is not often I find a moment’s peace.”

She turned. “These trees are—”

“Rather fun, do you not think?”

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder, then back to the living-wooden sculptures.

He slipped his fingers between hers, unable to resist touching her. “What one can do with a little creativity.”

“You grew them?”

He shrugged.

“And the flowers?”

“Foreign mostly. I work hard to maintain them.” He tickled one, gifting it a gentle dose of energy, and commanding the stem and petals to perk, freshen, and bloom. Crimson plumes revealed a violet and yellow speckled interior.

Alexia met his gaze, hers wide and smiling.

He looked away, bashfully. “I know, strange. What can I say? I have developed quite an attachment to them.”

“Not strange.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, maybe, but it is a good kind of strange.” She touched his cheek. “Makes you feel more . . . real.”

He huffed. “Because I like flowers?”

“Because you have a hobby.”

“Ah.” He turned away, releasing his grip on her and crossing his arms. “Well, I probably have too many of those. Too many for someone in such high demand.”

Her head tilted as she followed him. “Whatever do you mean?”

He waved her to a large flat rock, one he’d positioned here for thinking. “I told you I am a leader for our kind.”

She nodded and sat.

“Well, it goes deeper than that. I am more like the head guardian of our races, self-induced, but responsible nonetheless.”

“Why you?”

“I will come to that.” He held up a hand. “But first allow me to explain.”

She smiled encouragingly.

“When one of us comes of age, it is the moment our emotions or
passions
rage at their height. The Soulless are drawn like ants to sugar, and if they attack, there is only one way to defeat them.” He halted, the weight of the world hanging about his neck. “I possess that tool. Accordingly I make myself available each time one of ours passes into maturity.”

“The weapon.”

He nodded. “There have been entire decades when not a single new Passionate child was born, and maturations where I was needed in two places at once.”

“Like Miles and I?”

So she’d been discovering things on her own. “Yes, like you and Miles.”

Her rose-pink lips perked, eyes glittering. “Whom did you choose, Miles or me?”

He laughed. “Thankfully Miles goes most everywhere I do, so I did not have to decide.”

The smile dropped from her face. “You were both there on my sixteenth birthday?”

He bit his lip and knelt before her, catching her fingers and tracing the nails. “It constituted one of the hardest nights of my life.”

“But I was still,” she scowled, “ugly.”

He squinted up at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I had not changed yet.”

He was at a loss for speech. “Alexia, you have never been ugly.”

“Not to you, maybe.” She shifted in her seat, eyes darting away.

“How could you ever think of yourself that way
—
you whom I love?” He inched closer until she met his gaze. “You are the most fascinating creature in all of existence to me, always have been.”

Her eyelashes batted. He brushed her cheek, laughing inwardly at the surprise in her blush.

She swallowed. “So you venture off to protect those of us coming of age, so to speak?”

He nodded. “Yes, but there are other concerns that pull me away from here, like when one of us goes rogue and threatens to expose the others—”

“Like Bellezza.”

He grunted. “Or when a mortal becomes ensnared, and the mess of their disappearance has to be sorted out. There are other, mundane things that demand my attention as well: moves, changes of identity, transference of property, near discovery, rescues; and the life-altering occasions: marriages, deaths, births, christenings, and anniversaries. Because I cannot be everywhere at once, I have trained others and given assignments, but it is still an awful mess.”

Her mouth quirked at one corner. He wanted to kiss that corner, then her lips, then every inch of her precious body.