Books by Maggie Shayne (291 page)

I stood where I was, staring at her, so small and delicate to my eyes. "Perhaps I've shocked you enough for one night, Arianna."

"I'll nay rest until I know all of it," she promised. And again, patted the moss.

Sighing, I went to her, settled down beside her. "All right. Since I know your stubbornness to be legendary, I will go on. But if it becomes more than you can bear—"

"I am far stronger than you know, Nicodimus. Far stronger."

Looking into her eyes, I sighed and relented. "Where there is good there is also evil. You know this."

"Aye," she said. "There can be no light without darkness. 'Tis the way of things. Of nature itself."

I nodded my agreement. ' 'Thus with Witches. There are evil ones among us, those without conscience, without love in their souls. When they find out the secrets of High Witches, they cannot resist seeking out immortality for themselves."

"And how can they gain it, Nicodimus?"

' 'By killing one of us. By taking the heart from our chest, and holding it captive in a small box. So long as they possess the heart, they possess the immortality, and the power of its rightful owner. In time, the heart will weaken, and the Dark Witch with it. So they are compelled to take another, and another. It is the only way they can live on."

"I see." She said it slowly, thoughtfully. Then, drawing a deep breath, met my gaze straight on. ' 'You say you are one of the Light Ones, Nicodimus. And yet I just saw you take a living heart."

I stiffened. That she could, even for a moment, believe me to be one of the Dark Ones.... I nearly spoke without thinking, nearly told her of the birthmarks we all bear, the Light upon the right flank, the Dark upon the left, in order to prove to her my innocence. But I bit the words back in the barest instant before I would have spoken them. For if she knew of the birthmark's significance she would have to know that she was as I am. Immortal, just like me. And I was convinced my tender cat was not ready for that information. Not yet. Hadn't she already told me she'd rather die than to outlive all those she loved?

"I took his heart because it was the only way to ensure

he stay dead. And I did not keep it, Arianna. I burned it on a pyre, the heart as well as the body. For that was the one way to free Kohl's immortal soul."

She inhaled deeply, lowering her pretty chin, but then her head came up again, eyes wide. "Kohl? Nicodimus, this man was the one who attacked you before... he was..."

"My brother-in-law," I said, nodding slowly. "I have no idea how he learned the secret, but he and his brother did so. They both managed to take living hearts and capture immortality for themselves. And it makes sense to me that they did so. If they had learned I was immortal, they would have gone to any lengths to become the same. Their only wish was to live long enough to kill me, the man who killed their father, humiliated them before their own clan, stole away their sister. They blamed me for Anya's death as well. And they always vowed they would have vengeance on me one day."

"What of the other one, Nicodimus?"

I shook my head. ' 'If they had been together they would no doubt have attacked me as one. Unfair, but they have never been men of ethics or honor. And Marten is a far more accomplished Witch than Kohl. He's even mastered the art of setting fires with but his will over the centuries. I'd have had much more trouble defeating Marten. No, Arianna, if Kohl attacked me alone, then his brother must be far away."

Her hand came up to stroke my face. "I'm sorry for you, Nicodimus. It must be truly horrible to know you have been hated so much for so long." Then she shook her head slowly. "And to live being hunted by the Dark Ones. For that is how you must live, is it not?"

"Yes. It is. Coming here, to this place, has always been my escape from that life. But one of them found me, even here."

"Aye," she said. "But that one is no more."

"I never meant to bring the darkness to this place.... To you..."

Her smile was gentle, and small. "I dinna doubt that, Nicodimus."

"But where one can find me, others may well follow."

She sat a little straighter. "They will have me to contend with, do they wish to harm my husband," she declared.

And that made me smile. But then she hugged me quite fiercely, her arms tight around my waist, her head pressing to my chest. "Dinna laugh at me, Nicodimus. I mean what I say."

My arms went 'round her, seemingly of their own volition. Such a strong, stubborn woman. She touched something deep within me. The scent of her hair seemed to tangle itself 'round my senses, and tug me gently closer.

"Take me to the Stone Circle, next full moon," she said softly. "The Crones were afraid to perform magickal rites there. But I wish to feel the power you spoke of, to know it for myself."

It was not in my power to deny her. I thought then, that anything she asked of me, I would gladly do.

Anything ... except love her. I must never do that.

Never...

Arianna understood. Now so much more than before. Perhaps Nicodimus would love her... if only he could. But he could not. Oh, she did not believe for a moment that his heart had died with his family. No, his heart was strong in him, and filled with tender emotions. She had seen the pain in his eyes as he'd spoken of his lost family. One could not hurt if one were incapable of loving. Indeed, she had begun to think her husband had more love inside him than anyone she had ever known. But not for her. Nay, not for her. He could not risk loving her, nor would she ask it of him. For he knew—and now she did as well—the consequences loving her would bring. He would be forced to watch her grow old, while he remained young and strong. He would have to watch her die, leaving him behind. Immortal and utterly alone.

She thought on these things as she rode before him on his fiery black stallion, her back pressed to his chest, his hand at her waist. She thought on these things and more. And she realized that she had to give up her dreams of making him love her. For his sake. She loved him too much to ask him to suffer such unspeakable anguish because of her. She would not ask it of him again.

He glanced down at her, concern etched on his face. "The things I've told you tonight... they've shocked you."

She thought on that for a moment. "Shocked, aye. But enlightened, as well. I ken your heart more now than ever I have. Nicodimus. An' 'tis glad I am you finally shared your secrets with me."

His steady gaze made her wish for more than could ever be as he replied, "I always intended to tell you all of this. I only ... thought to wait until I judged you ready to hear it. I thought..."

"You thought a girl so young and flighty too immature to deal with these truths. You thought I would run in fear of you, or give myself nightmares."

He frowned, a hint of guilt appearing on his face. "I only thought to protect your tender heart and mind from such dark truths as these."

At that, Arianna smiled. "My heart is far from tender, Nicodimus. I am strong. Far stronger than you know."

"And far more vulnerable than
you
know, little cat."

"Nay. 'Tis not so. In time, you'll see."

He returned her smile, but his was doubtful, tentative. And slowly a more serious expression replaced it. "I've trusted you with these secrets, Arianna. And secrets, they must remain. Understand that."

"Aye," she replied. "Nicodimus, I ken full well the need for secrecy in this. An' I would die of torture before revealin' a word of what you've told me this eve. I swear it to you on the name of my sister."

He blinked as if in surprise at the vehemence in her voice. But she meant what she said, and used the only words she could think of to convince him of that. He believed her, she thought. For he nodded firmly, and turned his attention back to the path ahead.

The keep rose dark and towering before them, and only as they drew near did she think of something she had not asked. "What of Nidaba? Is she ... is she a High Witch as well?"

He glanced her way. "Nidaba's secrets are not mine to

share. But if you ask her, Arianna, I believe she will be as honest with you as I have been. She does not show it, but I sense that deep down she is fond of you, for some reason."

She lifted a hand to her breast as if wounded. ' 'Am I so onerous that this surprises you?"

He met her eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Naught you might do could surprise me," he said. "And you know full well you're the farthest thing from onerous. It is simply that Nidaba tends to... shy away from intimacies, bonds of any kind where caring is involved."

"Aye," she said, smiling back at him now. "Except with you." He conceded the point with a nod, and Arianna told herself she'd no right to feel jealous.

Side by side they rode through the gates, and dismounted. Nicodimus took the reins, and led his horse into the stables. And he didn't object when Arianna walked with him into the dark, hay-scented outbuilding. He removed the saddle, the bridle, reached for a rag and began rubbing his stallion briskly.

She felt a bit guilty for not having taken proper care of the mare she'd borrowed earlier. And while Nicodimus worked on Black, she went to where the dun mare stood, and brushed her coat. When Nicodimus gave Black some grain, she gave some to the mare as well, and thought she saw approval in her husband's eyes.

Arianna tilted her head when he faced her once more. "I suppose your aversion to closeness must not extend to animals. For I believe you think more highly of your horse than your wife."

She was teasing. But Nicodimus didn't jest with her in return. Instead he took both her hands in his, and stared into her eyes. "You must never think that, Arianna. I do care for you. More than is probably wise."

Her hands wanned where he held them, and her heart seemed to quicken its beat. But she closed her eyes and reminded herself she must be strong. Must not give in to the yearning of her body ... nor to that of her heart. ' 'You needn't spew lies to comfort me, Nicodimus. I've told you,

I am the strongest person I know. An' now that you've explained your past to me, I'll be content to be your wife in name only. I ken why 'tis necessary, an' I willna go back on my word." He parted his lips to say more, but she shook her head firmly. "Nay, no more. Save your carin' for your horse, husband. I've no need of it. Truly. You saved my life by weddin' me, an' 'tis enough. More than enough."

He frowned at her, studying her there in the darkness as if unable to comprehend her words.

"Dinna you ken, Nicodimus? I'm only agreein' to the terms you laid down afore our marriage. I'll nay try to make you love me, only to watch me age an' die while you remain alone. Is this nay the very thing you wanted of me?"

As they walked together out of the stable and began crossing the courtyard, which was, for once, void of any clansmen, his frown deepened and he nodded. "Yes, I... I suppose it is."

"Then you have it." She lowered her head, bit her lower lip. "However, I would ask one concession of you."

"One concession?" He crooked a single dark brow. "Now you have me curious. Go on, what is it?"

Lifting her chin, she cleared her throat and met his eyes. "I believe the laird and Nidaba would exercise discretion, but as for Kenyon an' Lud, I have doubts. Besides, servants are known for gossip, an' there are servants aplenty in this household. An' the rest of the clan, coming an' going all the while."

"Indeed," he said. "There are. And they do gossip."

She nodded firmly. "Aye. Were it known my husband preferred sleepin' in the hall or the stables to sharin' my bed, I'd be shamed, Nicodimus. Ridiculed an' a cause for amusement to the entire clan."

Nicodimus kept his gaze trained on the ground rather than on her, no doubt displeased with the direction her thoughts had taken. But she forced herself to go on.

' 'I would ask, Nicodimus, that you at least make a pretense of feelin' ... affection for me ... of our marriage bein' a real one, rather than a lie designed to protect me

from my own rebellious ways. Allow me to salvage my pride, an' walk without shame among my clan." Still he said nothing. Her voice softer, she rushed on. "After all, 'twill only be for a short while. Only until you leave me again, as you said you would."

He brought his head up sharply, his eyes intense now.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I've angered you. If you find the idea so distasteful, Nicodimus, then please, put it from your mind. I'll deal with the ridicule. The Gods know I have before." She turned away, striding toward the keep, a short distance away.

Nicodimus's hand on her shoulder brought her to a stop. "No, Arianna. 'Tis I who am sorry. My anger was with myself for not thinking of this sooner. Already, I've given the clan reason to talk, by riding off alone on our wedding night the way I did. I'll not give them any more."

She didn't turn around, for if she did, he would see the tears that burned inexplicably in her eyes. "Thank you, husband."

"I will say I went riding to give you time to prepare for me," he said, softly. "And as for your own jaunt tonight, the tale will be ..." He thought for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was different. Quieter than before, and slightly coarse. "The tale will be that my passion for my chaste young bride was such that it frightened her. That she ran away, and that I fetched her back home only to ravage her still more."

As he spoke, his hand on her shoulder moved in what might have been an unintended caress. Soft, his touch. Calloused, his palm on her tender skin, she felt it even through the robe that covered her. The words he spoke brought a foreign longing alive in the pit of her stomach, and made her feel breathless and warm.

'"Tis ... a good tale," she whispered. "I... I am feel-in' a mite ill, Nicodimus. My stomach is behavin' quite badly just now. Flutterin' an' ... odd."

When he said nothing, she chanced a look over her shoulder at him. He offered a strained smile, and swept her

hair away from her forehead with a featherlight touch. "You'll be fine," he told her gently. "The feeling ... will pass."

He didn't sound certain of that. Nonetheless, he turned her 'round, and gripping her elbow, walked her to the doors. But when they strode through the great hall, they were greeted by worried questions from a half dozen people. Joseph, Nidaba, and Kenyon and Lud, all while a handful of Joseph's men looked on with speculative expressions.

Nicodimus met her eyes once, and she saw the silent message in them. His pretense would begin now. Ignoring them all, he scooped Arianna up into his arms, and strode with her to the far end of the room and the stone stairway there. And as he did he spoke, his tone intimate, but loud enough so they could hear. "I'll be gentler this time, my love. I promise." And before mounting the first step, he bent and pressed his mouth to hers.

Arianna's heart nearly beat a hole through her chest. And yet that great emptiness remained. Oh, if only this were real. If only it could someday be ... real.

I only wanted to protect her. No, that wasn't entirely true. I wanted her. I knew that. My body craved hers the way any healthy man's body would crave that of a beautiful woman ... especially knowing that woman wanted him, too. Before, I had been half convinced Arianna would seduce me into her arms ... into her bed ... before we'd been married a week. I had told myself I would resist her, but I had already known I could never withstand her charms for very long.

But tonight... tonight everything had changed.
She
had changed. Suddenly so willing to agree to my terms. Vowing to leave me alone, and to have me play the part of the passionate husband only in front of the others. And I had realized then that not having her, not taking her, was again a possibility. Attainable, perhaps with ease.

That knowledge made me want her more than ever, however foolish such a thing may seem. So that when I spoke the tale I would spread among the clan, I saw the images

of it in my mind. Fetching my runaway bride home, and carrying her up to our chamber to savor every inch of her, to exercise all of my husbandly rights. I had grown aroused beyond endurance at the thought, and more so when I realized she had as well. Stomach ailment, indeed. My innocent bride did not even recognize raw desire for what it was.

When I scooped her up, held her against me, promised to be gentle, and then tasted her succulent mouth, my desire for her burned still hotter, and for just an instant on that darkened stairway, I allowed myself to savor the fantasy ... then became lost in it.

Hands tangling in her hair, I pressed her mouth open wide, and licked inside with my tongue. My hands began to caress the parts of her I held, one in perfect reach of a firm, rounded breast, and the other stroking her outer thigh. I felt her nipple harden against my palm, and nearly groaned with the force of the need that rocked through me. And all the while my feet carried her faster to the top of the stairway, then down the corridors. I kicked the chamber door open when I reached it, and strode through to lay her down upon the waiting bed.

It was her hands on my chest that finally made me realize what I was doing to her. My little cat lay breathless, her face flushed, eyes wide and staring up at me. I straightened slowly, pushing a hand through my hair as I turned away. Averting my gaze in shame, I walked to the door, pushed it closed. "I... I apologize, Arianna."

On a breathless sigh, she whispered, "I... I'd no idea you could be so... convincing. For a moment I thought you meant to ... to ..."

I looked back at her, but she clamped her lips tight and said no more. How was I to do this? Spend the night at her side and not touch her? It would surely take a saint to accomplish such a feat. I was no saint.

She tried a smile, though it was confused and tremulous. "Surely every person in the place was convinced as well," she suggested. Then slowly, she got to her feet. "Tis so

very warm here, dinna you think? I vow, 'twas not so when I left earlier."

She pulled at the ties that held her robe in place, and tossed it aside without a care.

What I saw then ...

I could only stare for a long moment. "Arianna," I whispered. I sank to my knees to keep myself from moving any nearer. But I was unable to take my eyes from her body, for it was utterly revealed to me, every part of it, by the sheer fabric she wore. "By the Gods, woman, what do you think I'm made of?"

Blinking, she glanced down at herself, and then went so red the blush was like fire. "Damnation!" she cried, and she spun around, and snatched the coverlet from the bed to hold over her.

But it was too late, for the image of her was burned into my mind. And I knew it would haunt me. Breasts, high and proud, with full, sweet curves, and nipples elongated and dusky rose in color. The pendant she wore resting in between. A belly, flat and tight, and the silken triangle of hair between her slender thighs. Her perfectly rounded buttocks, and the tempting darkness in between. When she'd turned away, she'd aroused me even more.

"Where," I whispered, my voice barely more than a tormented croak, "did you get that... that shift?"