Sword's Blessing (14 page)

“That doesn’t scan,” Armand said softly. “Didn’t she tell you Aristaeus was her balm?”

“Yes,” Giselle whispered. “Yes, she did. Why would a woman kill the child she calls her balm?” She sucked on her lip.

“Did she say anything else?” Samantha asked, eyes scanning the pages steadily. “Anything at all?”

Giselle closed her eyes and dredged up the memory, frowning to herself. If every word Cyrene had said was spoken with full intent, then... “Yes. She said ‘Samael must not find him’.”

“That explains why the child had to die to some extent,” Eli said. He rubbed his temples. “If not a thousand other things. Sounds like a dead end, anyway.”

“Yes. And we still don’t know who Samael is. Which worries me even more. If my Fore cannot access it, that means we’d need the blessings of a high order.”

“Can you get it?” Samantha asked, frowning at something in the text.

Giselle sucked on her lip. “I’m not sure what my title will get me,” she said. “I can call on the one who ascended me to ask.” She glanced at Armand. “Maybe get some information on accessing his memories as well.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much, dear,” Cassie said as she came in. She smiled at Armand. “The child will get his memories back when they’re good and ready for him. For now, you should go and get some rest. It’s been a busy day, and to be honest, my bones are creaking.”

Samantha started. “I suppose we’ve outstayed our welcome,” she said with a faint smile. She stood. “Thank you, Cassie. You’ve been so much help.”

“I only gave you safe haven and some hints,” she said, and cupped Samantha’s face with a broad smile. “Don’t forget your place, darling. Your power releases woes, forgives sins, cleanses all belligerent justice. When you next see me, cling to that memory.”

Samantha frowned. “What do you mean?”

Cassandra only patted her cheek once more and moved to Giselle and Armand. “Child, Blood-bearer…” she patted their hands, then folded them together. “Forgive an old woman her bluntness, but just fuck, already.”

The two blinked. Eli and Samantha both failed spectacularly to muffle their guffaws. It was only made worse when Giselle cleared her throat and managed a bewildered, “Yes, ma’am.”

“We’re just up the street at the casino,” Eli said, “so if you need us…”

“I’ll send Charlotte along,” Cassie said. “Now get, the lot of you. I’ve got dishes to mind.”

With a final farewell to Charlotte, still at the shop’s register, the four of them stepped into the street. Eli paused and turned to Giselle. “Here’s your key. You guys can do what you like. I have a lady to spoil.” He grinned at Samantha. “And you’ve got whoopee to make.”

“Must you be perverted?” Samantha asked, hands on her hips. “Honestly.”

“Damned, here, I’ve got an excuse. I don’t know what Cassie’s is.”

“She’s old.” Giselle hummed, but plucked the card from Eli’s hand. “Have a good time.”

Winding an arm around Samantha’s waist, Eli dipped her back and kissed her. When he stood her up again, she was laughing. “We’ll make do. See you at breakfast.” With that, he dragged the Inbetweener away.

There was a slightly awkward pause. Then they spoke at the same time. “So…”

Armand laughed. Giselle bit her lip and he took her hand. “You’re nervous.”

“Well. Yeah.”

He squeezed her hand. “Me too.”

“I don’t think I should be,” Giselle confided. “Come on, Armand, we’ve…we’ve fought Damned and done all sort of strange things.” She jumped as he put an arm around her waist. “It’s not that big of a deal and it’s silly to be nervous.”

“I think it’s a big deal,” he said with a smile. “If accounts are right, I’ve been waiting more than eighty years for you. How is that not a big deal?”

She started, and then swallowed. He was right. Eighty years. How in the world had she been so naïve? “I’m sorry I didn’t realize…before…”

“Even if you had,” he said as they exited Bourbon Street proper, “it would have only ended badly. This was the best possible scenario for us.”

“Even with the pain and the kidnapping and the soul shattering?” she asked skeptically.

“Especially with all that.” He kissed her cheek. “Come on. Do you want something before we check in? A burger or a drink?”

She laughed. “I’m fine.” She took his hands. “You’re right.” She held up the key. “Time to go.”

* * * *

Despite her assertion she wasn’t nervous, as soon as the door closed, Giselle wanted nothing more than to walk back out of it again. There was nothing to fear but her own fear at this point, and she had sworn to leave fear behind. Besides, this was Manas. This was Armand. She knew him, he knew her, there was nothing to worry about.

Still, it was terrifying, and it must have showed on her face, because he reached out and stroked her cheek. “I love you.”

Her heart lightened, and the smile which lifted her lips was genuine, dissipating a bit of her nerves. He could offer her such comfort with so little. “I love you.” She reached over to turn off the light, but he stayed her hand.

“Can we leave it?” he asked softly. “I want to see you.”

She blinked, and then blushed, wondering at how his hands seemed to firm as they reached out to caress her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. It felt good, warm, sweet. She’d been so forward earlier, what had happened? Belatedly, she realized he might want her to be touching him and reached out clumsily.

He smiled. “It’s okay, Giselle. You can just enjoy it.”

“How do you know?” she blurted. “What to do, I mean?”

“I don’t, of course.” he said with a grin. “I’m better at faking it, aren’t I?”

She thought of the times he’d stumbled them into and out of strange situations, how when she’d had no notion what to do, he’d always forged ahead on pure instinct. It might have gotten them into trouble once or twice, but it had also saved them on more than one occasion. She smiled. “Yes. Way better.”

He stepped forward, sweeping her into a long, sweet kiss, and with the distraction of the conversation, she forgot to be nervous, closing her eyes and soaring into space with his skin close to hers, the touch of his hand on her cheek. When he pulled back, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, and took his hand, tugging him in to kiss again. This time when he reached back to stroke her dark hair from her face, she sighed, and when he strayed lower to her wings, she didn’t hesitate to wrap them around both of them.

His fingers slipped through the feathers as easily as her hair, and he took a deep breath, suddenly breaking the kiss to murmur. “I used to do this often. You’d hide in my wings whenever you got scared.”

Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him with a faint gasp. “Y-yes,” she stuttered. “All the time, when we first ascended…”

Armand tipped her head with a joyful smile. “Giselle,” he whispered. “I remembered.”

“Yes!” she returned. “Oh–I…” she swallowed hard, burying her fingers in his hair with a quivering smile. That single memory was enough to set her abuzz with ecstatic joy. He wasn’t lost! Armand and Manas had a chance. “Anything else?”

“No.” he said. His hands were shaking. “Quick,” he laughed softly, “kiss me again, maybe there’s more.”

She wasted no time, capturing his lips insistently, joyfully. Truly, if he had never recovered his memories, she would not have left him. If she was the key, if he could remember through her, then hesitation could crisp in a fire.

After a moment, he hugged her closer, lifting her up a few inches from the floor. She couldn’t help giggling. “Armand,” she said, then paused, opening her eyes to look on his face. What if he didn’t like being called by that name?

He was smiling. “It’s fine.” He touched their noses, keeping her suspended, resting on his chest, leaned back to look her in the face. “They’re all me.”

She thought that was somewhat strange wording, but nodded. Gently, he put her down, but only for a moment, grinning wickedly as he scooped her knees from beneath her and kissed her again. “Wings are pretty strong, right?” he asked with a laugh.

“Well, yes,” Giselle replied, almost giddy with his infectious happiness. “I mean, they’ve got to get us around.”

“Good!” he cried, and tossed her on to the bed, only laughing more at her shriek of surprise, jumping after her.

Giselle opened her eyes to find him on his knees beside her, studying her with a bright, almost awed gaze. “What?” she asked softly. “Did you remember something?”

“I’m not sure,” he said with a gentle smile. He reached out, still breathing hard as he trailed a knuckle along her jawline. “I just thought to myself…this is the woman who will bring us safe through the storm.” He laughed softly. “And I guess that’s true enough, isn’t it?”

“Only because you were there,” she replied, and reached up, taking his wrist to draw his hand lower, lower, until it was resting on one breast. “Waiting for me.”

“Who waited for who?” he leaned forward before she could answer, kissing her sweetly, gently, as his hand cupped her clothed breast, then slid down her waist and hip. “Giselle…”

“Manas…Armand…” She smiled. “Whichever, right?”

“Might be easier if you chose one,” he teased.

“Armand.” She said immediately. “Manas is certainly nice…”

“But Armand is the most recent name,” he agreed, and tilted his head, looking thoughtful.

She waited for a moment before asking, “Did you remember something?”

“No.” He rubbed his hair, sheepish. “In fact I’m trying very hard to remember something, but it’s just not coming, and logic isn’t helping either.”

She blinked. “What?”

Armand smiled abashedly. “I can’t figure out how to get your shirt off around your wings.”

“It just…” Giselle paused, then laughed. “I guess it isn’t obvious. The wings can phase out, so just like a normal shirt.”

“Like Eli’s horns.”

“Right.”

He chewed on a lip. “Sorry. I think I ruined the romance there.”

“No, you didn’t.” She smiled and pulled him down to kiss, and sank back into ecstasy immediately. His hands were warm and gentle, his lips soft. As he took a hold on the hem of her shirt, she felt nothing but peace. This was how it was meant to be. Him with her, her with him.

Armand drew off the shirt, tossing it to the side and sitting up to smile at her. “You don’t wear a bra,” he said. “I always thought you did.”

Giselle giggled. “You thought about these things?”

“If I remember correctly, I tried not to but failed miserably.”

He reached out, brushing the swell of flesh at her side where the breast rose from her ribs, his eyes faintly unfocused. “Your skin is even, too, not like those girls with tan lines…”

“It’s the same color as when we were mortals,” she said softly, watching his hand touch her at first and then gently returning the touch on his wrist and arm. “The same color as you.”

Suddenly, he smiled widely. “Your skin was darker than your mother, like your father, but you had her face.”

Giselle smiled wider. “You remember that?”

He responded by kissing her, hand cupping around a breast. Her eyes fluttered, his hand felt even warmer flush against her skin but it wasn’t enough. When his fingers moved he tweaked her nipple, and she gasped. He paused, and she could feel him smile against her lips as he did it again. The sensation was like an electrical buzz echoing through her bones, exciting and jarring at once. When his other hand took the other breast and began the same treatment, she whimpered.

Armand cleared his throat, sounding hesitant. “Giselle…”

“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Please, please, Armand.”

He swallowed and leaned down. At first she thought he would kiss her, and took a breath, but instead his lips landed at the junction between her neck and shoulder, brushing her skin like feathers. The buzz increased and she shifted to wrap arms around his chest so he couldn’t pull away. “A-Armand!”

Her hip moved against him, and with awe she realized his hard length pressed against her thigh, curiously warm and velvety...

She had seen men aroused before certainly. He was different. This was Armand, and this was for
her
. A hand crept from its place on his back to explore the phenomenon.