Dark Throne, The (12 page)

His tension eased a little
. "Life at court is not pretty. The only time I'm not in
armor is at functions.”

"Do you go to bed in it?" she asked, her voice
shocked
. Perhaps twenty-first
century Earth had spoiled her for whatever-the-hell century it was
back on Mearth.

"No
. I sleep
nude.”

"Again, with the terse tone
. Christ, Fade, chill. Unless you fancy sleeping on my
sofa, which I doubt because I'm at least a head shorter than you
and I wouldn't want to sleep on it, then you'll have to share my
bed. And that isn't an overture. That's simply an invitation for a
good night's sleep.”

"You trust me enough?"

She grinned
. "I'm
pretty tough. I lived in one of the hardest cities in America, so
I'm able to handle myself. And you, if you do anything I don't want
you to.”

"Well, if it wasn't for whatever your aunt made you take to
suppress your Elven heritage, you'd be burning up alongside me with
the mating heat
. I don't think
you'll entirely escape from it so any touch will be welcomed by
you, I'm sure.”

"Arrogant
. I'll have
to watch out for that.”

"Not arrogant
.
Learned. How did your aunt give you the suppressors?"

"I don't have a clue
.
But she baked a lot. And every week, I had a basketful of cookies
or cakes on my kitchen work top. I'm figuring that's how she did
it.”
A frown puckered her
brow as she recalled that phase in her adolescence. It wasn’t a
period she often thought of, because mostly she was ashamed.
Ashamed she’d been foolish enough to fall into the trap of wanting
to be the prettiest, skinniest girl at school. A thought process
that had seen her drop down to skin and bone.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that
that was the time May started her baking frenzy
. Not a week had passed without Heather binging
on the cakes and then… pouring the contents of her stomach down the
toilet bowl in repentance for daring to allow anything to pass
through her lips.

Christ that
had been
a hellish time. She was glad it was over with and that she was
perfectly content with the way she looked now.

That meant before her anorexia and bulimia phase –she
snorted at how trite that sounded- her aunt had somehow dosed her
up with
suppressors. That
came as no real surprise though - May had always been
crafty.

"When was the last time she baked you
any?"

"A few months before she died
. She had to be hospitalized.”

"Did she have any extra features
? Or anything that would have been suspicious in this
world?"

"You mean the ears?" At his nod, she shook her
head
. "No.
Nothing.”

He grimaced, his features twisting in
revulsion
. "She must have had
them removed. That is some sacrifice, Heather. If you loved your
aunt before, you should be aware of her utter devotion. To do
something of that nature. . . . Mother Mearth. . . . The pain. It
would have been daily.” At her look of confusion, which was slowly
loading with hurt, he quickly said, "Our ears are very sensitive.
The operation itself would have been agonizing. The healing process
would have been long and drawn out and even when the incisions had
healed, there would have been discomfort. She must have loved you
deeply to make such an act to protect you. Fully grown as she was,
there was no way of hiding them save to have them removed. Mearth
be damned, she must have been some woman.”

"She was
. Auntie May
was my lodestone. Without her, nothing made sense. It's why I moved
here. I needed to get away and be my own person. In New York, as
enormous as the city is, she'd made it her own.” She whispered, "I
never realized what she'd done for me.”

"Why would you
? You
didn't know. You
weren't
to know,
Heather.” He sighed. "When did she die? I'm not sure I understand
your time periods, but a year is a long time, yes? In Mearth, we
would call these annes.”

"My French is shaky, but they call a year,
année
. Maybe there's some
connection? If so, yes.”

Fade nodded
. "That's a
long time to go without a suppressant, Heather. You might be
susceptible to the mating heat in ways neither of us can imagine.
We should be prepared.”

"Okay
.” The word was
trite, but it was all she was capable of. Brusquely now, because
she was upset, she continued, "Come on, I'm shattered. If you want
to sleep tonight then you'll come now. I'm not having you waking me
up at dawn, because you're trying to get in to bed. I'm a grouch if
I don't get my eight hours.”

"I'm warned
. I'll come
now, but I don't think you're ready to see my wings. And, I'll
warn
you.
I'll be getting up early. I want to touch base
with Mearth again. I can't believe that the three we've tried so
far haven't worked. It isn't as simple as your mother thought. I
imagined we'd have a choice of places and time periods, but it
seems not. We'll just have to take our chances with wherever we
land.”

"If you're right, then I guess we could be bound faster
than either of us imagined
.”

"I'd say so
.” He
jumped upright and his spritely pace was incredible, considering
the weight of his armor, but from what he'd said, he was accustomed
to it. Fade reached for her hand and tucked her fingers between his
own. It was an obvious attempt at comfort and she accepted it
willingly.

Heather led him to the staircase and while it was a tight
fit, she refused to relinquish the connection and they walked
awkwardly up the stairs and towards her makeshift
bedroom
. Once inside the
hodge-podge, she murmured, "I need to see them, Fade. I know the
idea makes you uncomfortable, but I think. . . . It's crazy. But I
think I've seen them in a dream.”

His eyes narrowed
.
"That would be crazy.” His head tilted to the side as he studied
her. "Do you have visions?"

"Visions
? I wouldn't
say so. Not so that I'd realize it anyway.”

"Perhaps these dreams are visions, but you simply don't
realize it
. When we return to
Mearth, we shall meet with your mother's shaman. The shaman will
help you to understand your abilities and capabilities. I would
hazard a guess that you are a seer.” He sighed. "Nothing is ever
simple, is it?"

Before she could even ask a question, he began to
move
. His arms contorting in
peculiar ways to remove the armor from his torso.

"Forgive the lack of grace
,” he panted a few seconds later. "I have a squire who aids
me.”

"Can I help?" she asked, noting his sweaty face, which was
bright red from exertion
.

He hesitated, obviously not wanting her in such close
contact with his wings, but he eventually nodded
. "Aye. You can help. Please,” he added,
obviously realizing he'd been rude. Again.

Heather walked over to him and because of the burst of
exercise, could scent him
. The
pure essence of man. She'd never been one of those women who liked
sweaty men. Anything but. After a session at the gym, all of her
boyfriends had had to shower before she'd go within a foot of them.
But God, with Fade it was like the sweetest, purest aftershave
she'd ever known. It filled her nostrils, lightened her head until
she felt almost faint with the deliciousness of it.

Gulping back a groan, she grabbed the metal plate and
tugged upwards
. It was a taut
fit, but with her providing upward assistance and Fade fidgeting
and wriggling about inside the vest, they managed to free
him.

Beneath the plate, he wore a linen shift
. Standing behind him as she was, Heather could
easily see the bulges of something that certainly wasn't on her own
back.

His hands crossed at his hips as he gathered the
sh
ift and lifted it over head,
baring a sodden expanse of feathers.

Chapter
Six

For a moment, Heather could only stare
.

She'd never seen anything like it before
. Never. Ever.

It was in no way like the way the world imagined an
angel
. But at the same time,
it was nothing like a bird.

As she watched, the wings spread and the feathers
flexed
. She jumped back in
surprise at the action and gasped as she took a note of the
breadth.

"Fucking hell
.” Even
from her position at his back, she saw that he stiffened and she
was quick to continue, with words that were honestly praising,
"They're beautiful.”

And they were
.

Heather couldn't deny that they were
weird
. Because she'd never
seen anything weirder. But at the same time, there was an innate
grace, a gentle beauty in the shape of the wings. The way the
feathers met and settled, the way they'd folded to tuck neatly into
his back.

They quivered at her words, in what she could only assume
was a subconscious pleasure
.
Something that Fade would never have admitted to, but which his
wings did for him.

The feathers were black and gold
. The same gold as his eyes. There were thick, almost
gnarled muscles at his upper shoulder and a ridge of
something
followed the line of his back and this acted as the
root of the wings.

That area wasn't pretty
. The muscles and the required bone structure was more
functional than attractive. But from them, came this incredible
plumage. Something which triggered a memory. . . . a memory of a
dream.

His supposition that she was a seer- something she hadn't
even replied to, because she'd thought him a little crazy- began to
settle in her brain and flourish
.

She'd seen these wings before
. In a dream and she didn't know when or why. But she
recognized them.

They had the same formation as those of a bird's, but these
were at least six foot wide on each side
. Their size was monstrous and while the shape was
relatively normal, they had sharp tips on the upper and lower
curves. Just like his ears, they were cuffed with a thick, heavy
silver. At the tips of each cuff was a heavy cabochon. They were
obviously expensive gems, but they were in colors she'd never
before seen. Blue-green, the same color as a Mediterranean sea on
the upper side. Yellow-orange, the same color as the sun on the
bottom.

The top layer of feathers was a pitch
black
. Like his hair. Then
underneath, there was a softer, fluffier layer of gold. These
layers of color continued in the same vein from top to
bottom.

Unable to help herself, she stepped closer to the mass of
feathers and the earlier scent of sweating man bombarded her senses
in a way she hadn't imagined possible
. At her proximity, they bristled almost as though they
weren't accustomed to anyone being so close to them.

As his essence flooded her entire being, this time she
groaned
. He immediately spun
around and there was a defensive look on his face, a frown on his
brow and tightening his mouth. But as he studied her, the look
disappeared and was replaced with one of surprise. And then
pleasure.

"Your eyes
,” he
whispered.

Her voice was loaded with gravel as
she spoke, "What about them?"

"They're Elven now
.”

"What do you mean?"

"Look in the mirror
.”
She was dazed by the power of his essence on her senses and allowed
him to lead her to a small, dressing table where a tiny mirror
sat.

She wasn't sure how many times she'd done it that day, but
for the final time of that particular run of twenty-four hours,
Heather fainted
.

The whites of her eyes had turned into a silver so bright,
it had seemed molten
.

The irises, the usual icy-blue, had grown even whiter until
the pinprick of a pupil seemed to be the only color within her
gaze
.

As her mind rejected the sight of mercury-shot eyes, she
heard Fade's incredulous whisper, "You're
aroused
.”

Her last,
aware
realization was
that he caught her in his arms, before she could tumble to the
ground.

And then, her conscious mind slept the sleep of
self-protection
.

It was either that, or finally feel the dagger-like thrusts
of insanity
.

So, this is my world
.