Ever After (4 page)

Based on the circuitous route she took, passing through the various galleries, winding her way through fountains and statuary without pausing to admire a single one, it was clear she knew she was being followed. But I kept my distance, always just a few yards behind, waiting for the opportunity to intercept her and find out who the hell she was and why she'd been watching me.

When we eventually came to the Great Hall, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder then bolted toward the exit, surprising me with her sudden burst of speed. I took off after her, losing sight of her for a few seconds until I saw her racing down the stone steps toward the cabs lined up out front.

For a moment, I thought she would dart inside one, but she abruptly changed direction, running down Fifth Avenue toward Seventy-ninth Street. Shifting now was definitely out of the question, but though her legs carried her swiftly, I was quickly gaining ground. I was within a few yards of her when she broke away, turning off into Central Park. Although the paths were lined with trees, their coverage wasn't nearly dense enough for her to lose me. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, giving me a glimpse of her face, but it was too brief for me to make out more than wide dark eyes.

As we reached a stretch of denser woods, she left the path, seeking the safety of the foliage, but I was too close now and too tired of this bullshit to let the chase go on much longer. As soon as I was convinced that we were beyond the curious eyes of those in the park, I shifted.

As I slipped out of the rift, I made a grab, my hand closing around her arm before she even realized I was there. I spun her around, snatching the hood from her head in the same movement.

And then I forgot to breathe.

In my shock, I released her, staggering back with a choked cry, stumbling over my own feet and ass-planting in the fallen leaves. For a long moment, I could only stare up at the woman before me, unable to accept what my eyes were seeing.

“
You,
” I finally managed to croak, tears of disbelief blurring my vision. “It's
you.
”

S
he took a few hurried steps, ready to bolt again, but then halted midstride, indecision making her falter. With a resigned exhale, she turned back to me and swallowed hard, her brows furrowed. Her chest was heaving and a sob hovered in her voice when she whispered, “Hello, love.”

I pulled off my shades and pressed the heel of my hand to my eyes, clearing away the stinging blur. “Who are you?” I demanded, although my voice was cracked, ragged with both sorrow and tentative joy. “Why do you torment me with this humorless jest?”

She offered me a sad smile. “Tormenting you was never my intention.”

She slowly came toward me then knelt beside me. My breath shot from my lungs when she took my face in her hands, her touch cool on my skin. My own hands trembled as I brought them up to cover hers. I closed my eyes, committing to memory the tenderness of her fingertips, knowing that at any moment this illusion would vanish, leaving me heartbroken once more.

“This isn't real,” I rasped, squeezing my eyes tighter, shaking my head, not willing to indulge this cruel fantasy. “I saw you fall ... I watched you die.”

“Aye, you did,” she murmured, her thumbs smoothing away the tears that had made their way to my cheeks. “And for that I'm sorry. I'm
so
sorry. . . .” And then she kissed me, an all too brief brush of her lips against mine. And I no longer gave a damn if she was real or imagined.

My arms went around her, dragging her into my embrace. I buried my face in her hair, inhaling deeply, the sweet scent of honeysuckle—of
her
scent—filling my lungs. I shuddered with the strength of my warring emotions—sorrow, anger, elation, heartache, fear—torn between sobbing with joy at having her in my arms again and fury at her for having let me believe she was dead.

I abruptly took hold of her upper arms and held her away from me, studying her intently, looking for some evidence that the wide dark eyes, pert nose, and defiant chin in that lovely heart-shaped face I'd adored were false, that this was some witch or siren sent to trick me, lure me to some horrifying fate with my own longings.

My hands moved from her arms to her shoulders, over the silkiness of her hair, reassuring myself that the woman before me was flesh and blood. Then I took her face in my hands, disbelief making my chest heave with ragged breaths.

“You're alive,” I murmured, peering into her beloved face again, knowing I could gaze upon her for eons and still never get enough. “You're truly alive. How is it possible? How is it you're here?”

But instead of explaining her miraculous appearance, she studied me silently, her eyes filling with tears as her fingers came up to caress my cheek, the line of my jaw, my lips. “Oh, my love,” she breathed, her voice breaking. “I've missed you so.”

Then she kissed me again. This time the kiss lingered, drawing out this precious moment that was long overdue. Her lips were as warm and alluring as I'd remembered all these years, parting in the same sweet invitation, drawing me toward a divine bliss where I could lose myself for hours. As the kiss deepened, she straddled my lap, pressing her body closer to mine, her fingers spearing my hair, holding on to me as desperately as I held on to her. And what started as a tender kiss soon became one of longing, of frenzied urgency.

My God, it was like we'd never been apart. That heated kiss melted away the years in an instant. I clutched her jacket in my fists, desperate to keep her from pulling away, but it was unnecessary. At that moment, my little love was in my arms again, her lips and tongue meeting mine with equal hunger, her hands roaming my neck, my shoulders, holding my face to hers.

I could've gone on kissing her over and over again until the sun dipped down below the horizon, making up for the centuries of kisses I'd missed. My lips clung to hers, but it was not enough. Eager to explore every inch of her skin, I tore my mouth away from hers and kissed her cheeks, each eyelid, her forehead, her jaw in the little spot beside her ear that had always made her laugh. And laugh she did, but it was tainted by tears as her arms went around my neck.

She whimpered softly as my hands slid beneath the hem of her dress and up her thighs to grasp her hips. I captured her lips again, and for a moment she melted into me, accepting my kiss. But then she abruptly broke away.

“Oh, God,” she said on a choked moan. “I can't do this. I never should've let you know I was here.”

She made to move away, but my hold tightened. “What?” I cried, my hurt and anger taking over now that the return of my joy was on the verge of being snatched away. “Why're you running away again?”

“John, I—”

“That's not my name,” I snapped, bitterness creeping in. “My name is Gideon Montrose. It always has been. I haven't used the name
you
gave me since that day at the falls.” I studied her closely, my stomach sinking as I watched guilt and regret wash over her. “But I guess you already know that.”

She averted her eyes, her shoulders sagging. “I can't take back what I've done,” she admitted. “But please know that I never wanted to hurt you. I've stayed away, I've tried to leave you in peace, to protect you from exactly this kind of hurt.” She heaved a harsh sigh and brought her eyes back up to meet my gaze. “But I just ... I had to see you before I go.”

I laughed bitterly and gently set her away from me, then got to my feet, pacing in tight designs as I brooded on the situation, not sure how I should feel, what I should say. I wanted nothing more than to sweep her away from there, take her back to my bed and make love to her, lose myself in her arms again, regain that peace and happiness we'd once shared. But it had been five hundred years ... five hundred years of sorrow and remorse that would not abate. And she'd been alive. Alive the entire fucking time, letting me mourn her without respite.

“Before you go,” I repeated on a chuckle, the sound harsh and unforgiving. And as heartbreak turned to fury, my voice shook when I roared, “Before you
go
? I don't even know where
the fuck
you've
been
!”

She closed her eyes on a sigh. “I don't know either. Something happened that day in the falls. I don't know where I went or how long I was gone. I
did
come looking for you in Make Believe when I finally became aware again. I had to find you, tell you I was still alive, but by then you were with someone else. You seemed happy.”

I blinked at her in disbelief. “That was Lavender Seelie. And we
were
happy—as much as we could be hiding our relationship. But that was three hundred years after you fell.”

“I don't understand it any more than you do,” she said. “Nor do I understand how I ended up in the Here and Now, as I hear it's called. I was just
here
one day. If it wasn't for Merlin—”

“Merlin?” I growled. “
He
knew you were here?”

She nodded. “Yes, he looked after me when I arrived.”

That arrogant son of a bitch and I were going to have one serious chat when I saw him next. And I had a feeling it might end with my hands around his neck.

“He told me you were here, but I . . . I couldn't bring myself to see you. I didn't want to interfere with your new life.”

I shook my head, not understanding. “My new life?”

“With the fairy godmother . . . Lavender.”

I pulled my hand down my face, vaguely noting that it was getting to be a habit. “Lavender left me,” I told her. “I was nearly executed when I stood up for her after the initial relocation and our relationship was discovered. To protect me, she gave me up. That was two hundred years ago, and for a couple of years now she's been happily married to one of the best men I've ever known. I'm to be godfather to their first child.”

“I know that
now
!” she retorted. “And when I found out, I again debated seeking you out, just to see if . . . if we could at least try to be friends again, see if there was any hope after all the time we'd lost. But then things became ... complicated.”

“Of course they did,” I muttered. “That was always the way of it with you. And, God knows, when it gets too complicated, you cut and run. That was always your problem—no thought of what tomorrow holds, only what you can have today.”

“Once upon a time that was enough,” she reminded me. “You used to be willing to accept that all we had was
today.
”

“Well, I'm not the same person I was then,” I shot back. “You made damned sure of that when you disappeared.”

She let her head fall back on her shoulders with an exasperated sigh. “This is why I didn't want you to see me. I had a feeling it would be like this.”

“Oh, because you know me so well, you mean?” I snarked. “Well, apparently, I never knew
you
at all! Who
are
you anyway? Tell me the truth. No more lies, no more games. Tell me who the fuck you really are
right now.
”

I heard her quiet sigh as she debated what to tell me.

“Not sure what to say? Weighing how much you can trust me?
Me?
” I raged, thumping my chest with my fist. “After all I thought we were to each other, now you hesitate to confide in me? After lying to
me
all these years, pretending to be dead and letting me suffer, now you show up out of nowhere and have the
audacity
to sit there and consider whether or not I finally deserve the truth?”

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks, her eyes filling with more to follow. I felt a jolt of remorse for my harsh words, but I shoved it away, my heartbreak taking on an even greater intensity than when I'd believed her to be dead.

And still she was silent.

“Here,” I said. “I'll get you started. Answer me this, if you think you can manage a single word of truth. What's yer name?”

She'd been kneeling but now sat back on her heels, resigning herself to my anger.

“And I mean yer
true
name.” I informed her, my voice growing louder, the Unseelie accent that had faded after so many years in the Here and Now slipping back in.

She turned her eyes up to me. “My name is Arabella.
Bella
to those who know me.”

Clearly, I was not among them....

“Arabella
what?
” I demanded.

She shook her head. “I have no last name, not really.”

“Are you calling yourself Locksley?” I pressed. “Are you the infamous thief I've heard tell of?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “As Locksley has already been in use here for some time, I thought it would be an appropriate alias for Robin Hood.”

“And are y'the one stealin' the king's fairy dust transports?”

I could see the guilt in her expression even before she nodded. “Yes. But, Gideon, it's complicated—”

The horrifying truth nailed me like a two-by-four to the back of the head, bringing me to my knees, my shoulders sagging in despair. I'd expected her to deny it, not confirm the fear that had been building in my gut during our exchange. I took hold of her arms again, my brows coming together in a frown so fierce it made her draw back. “Arabella, I've been commanded to bring you to my king to answer for yer crimes.”

She clutched the front of my shirt, giving me a nervous smile. “Just let me go. He doesn't need to know anything about this. About me. Please. You don't understand—”

“No,” I interrupted, setting her away from me and dropping back on my ass. “
You
don't understand, lass.” I ran my hands through my hair, completely freeing it from the low ponytail I wore, letting my head hang down between my shoulders for a moment as the magnitude of the situation sank in. Then I held up my wrists, revealing the king's bonds upon me. The symbols of his house were glowing blue with the power of his spell and the strength of his command. Arabella's eyes widened when she saw what they were, understanding the implications even before I explained, “I
cannot
disobey. It's not possible, no matter how hard I fight it. I can put it off for a while, resist for a few days maybe, but if he calls me in . . .”

She scrambled over to me. “I can't let you take me to him, Joh—
Gideon
. There's far more going on than you realize. I wasn't stealing the fairy dust for profit.”

“Then why're you stealin' it?” I gave her a pitying look. “Are y'addicted? Are y'a junkie?”

She hesitated briefly as if weighing her answer. “No.”

I lifted a single brow in challenge. “Sure about that?”

“Yeah, okay, I
need
it, but I'm not
addicted
. There's a difference.” She huffed. “I should've known you wouldn't understand. You've never
needed
anything or anyone.” When I stared at her in stony silence, she pushed to her feet, groaning in frustration. “This was a mistake.”

“Well, I guess that's the theme of our relationship,” I mumbled. “And I made the biggest mistake of all, believin' y'ever cared for me.”

The sting of her open palm connecting with my cheek caught me off guard.

“Say what you want about the mistakes I've made,” she raged, her cheeks growing red with indignation. “There's certainly no shortage of them. But don't you
ever
question how much I loved you! By doing so you insult us both.”

I stared at her, literally struck mute.

When I didn't speak, she swallowed a sob and turned away. “I have to go,” she called over her shoulder. “I've already stayed too long.” Her hurried steps carried her a few yards before I blew out a harsh sigh and let fly a stream of juicy curses, knowing I was a glutton for punishment even as I went after her.