Kathryne Kennedy - Everlasting Enchantment

“This is where I live,” said Millicent, having shifted back to her human form, her fur transforming back into her tattered dress. Gareth nodded. She looked more comfortable and relaxed. As if she’d come home, to a place she knew as well as the back of her hand. It made him wonder anew about her life.

She headed to her left, staying near the walls of the cavern, purposely skirting the dwellings below. Openings peppered the walls and his mind whirled at the thought of how many tunnels branched from the city. Millicent suddenly stopped in front of one of those openings, took a deep breath, and stepped inside. He followed, his hand on his sword, feeling her anxiety and prepared to do battle for her again.

Gareth’s hair crackled and shivers went up his spine. He recognized the magic of a warding spell as Millicent blithely walked through it with the relic on her wrist. Of course, she was immune, and Merlin’s power surpassed that of any human’s. And since he was tied to the relic, the spell did not harm him either.

Two guards stood within the entry and Gareth had his sword free from its scabbard before the men could blink. But Millicent shook her head at him and he lowered his weapon.

“We been waitin’ fer ye,” said one of the guards, a man with a scar from eye to jaw. He gave Millicent a leering grin. “Wot’s this, ye got yerself a friend? And here I’d been hopin’ to be the first to warm those icy lips.”

“Close your mouth, Jok,” snapped Millicent, “or I’ll—”

Gareth didn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. The edge of his blade met the ruddy skin of the guard’s throat and he stared into the man’s bloodshot eyes. “Apologize to my lady, sir, or I shall be forced to demand a duel for her honor.” His voice lowered to weariness. “And you shall lose.”

The guard sputtered. His companion slowly reached for the pistol tucked into his belt.

“Don’t,” Gareth advised the other guard with deadly calm. “I’ll have both your heads before you cock your weapon.”

Jok’s lips curled despite the sword at his throat. Then his grin slowly faded as he returned Gareth’s steady gaze. “Do as he says.” He finally said to the other guard. “The man ain’t boastin’.”

Millicent made an impatient noise of disgust. “Apologize, Jok, so we can be on our way.”

“Aye, that I will. I meant no disrespect to the lady, sir.” Gareth increased the pressure on the man’s throat. “Oh, aye. Me apologies, Millicent. Ye know I was only jestin’.”

“I know. But my friend here has an overblown sense of chivalry, I’m afraid. Not that I’d be too upset if he skewered you right now, mind you, but His Grace might not understand.” She blew out a breath. “My honor is satisfied, Sir Gareth. Please remove your weapon from the wretch’s throat.”

“As you wish, my lady. But first, Jok, you will hand me your weapon.” The man pulled it from his belt and Gareth took the pistol and tucked it into his own. He’d been dismayed when guns had been invented, making his sword skills almost obsolete, but soon had gotten familiar with them. He would have liked to own one, but it didn’t matter what he took with him when he went back into the relic. When he next appeared, he always had on what he’d been wearing when Merlin had first spelled him into the moonstone.

Gareth took a step back from Jok but did not lower his sword. “I’ll take yours as well,” he instructed the other guard, who managed to hand over his weapon without arguing.

Jok rubbed his throat while he let them pass. Gareth did not turn his back on them until the tunnel rounded and cut them off from his view.

“Worthless guards,” muttered Gareth, although he had his senses trained behind them, just in case. “They let me pass with my weapon and gave up their own.”

“My claws are just as dangerous, sir. But Ghoulston knows I’m in no position to make use of them.” Before he had a chance to ask her what she meant, she continued speaking. “Which begs me to point out your foolishness. I am in no way in need of your championing. Nor am I your lady.”

“You are as long as you wear the relic,” snapped Gareth, surprised at the possessiveness in his voice. Of all the women he’d seduced, he’d had no desire to keep any of them. Only one woman had ever made him feel that emotion, and because of her he’d lost his honor and his freedom. It worried him that he felt that way for this fierce woman when he’d yet to even bed her. And made him wonder anew if—despite her cold manner—she could be the one.

“Well, that will be remedied soon. I’m sure Ghoulston will find a way to remove this dratted bracelet.”

Gareth watched the sway of her hips. Removing the bracelet would be entirely up to her.

“I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as you,” she continued as they journeyed ever deeper into the tunnel. “Except maybe another shape-shifter. And I’ve never seen a man use a sword with such impressive skill.”

“I have been a warrior for centuries, my lady.”

“I thought you were a lover?”

He smiled at her quick wit. This one would make his time of freedom interesting. “I am both, it would seem. But not by choice.”

Again she met his eyes with that direct gaze of hers. She couldn’t be more than one-and-twenty, and yet her golden eyes bespoke of too much knowledge of the world and its people. Much in the same way that he often felt.

“You’re quick with that charming smile,” she whispered, “but it never quite reaches your eyes.”

Gareth sheathed his sword and closed the distance between them. Of all the thousands of women he’d taken to his bed, not a one of them had ever noticed such a thing about him. And he had thought her coldhearted. He took her hands and felt her tremble, an answering echo throughout his own body. “It’s a habit I’ve developed. I smile to seduce, not to reveal.” He lowered his head slightly, bringing his mouth closer to hers, surprised to discover that she stood only inches in height below him. “Have I succeeded in interesting you, my lady?”

“Millicent.”

“Ah yes, Millicent.” He stroked her name with his tongue, liking the way it sounded on his lips.

She shivered and his smile broadened.

“Bloody hell,” she said. “Sensuality flows from your very pores. It will be a miracle if I can keep you at arm’s length until dawn.”

He swept his mouth over her soft cheek. “Perhaps since the sun never rises here in your Underground, I will not fade back into my prison.”

“Perish the thought.”

Gareth told himself she had no idea what she meant. That she couldn’t conceive of the hell imprisonment had become for him. But when she twisted her hands out of his, he quickly released his hold.

Millicent began to walk down the passage at a rapid pace. “You have a remarkable gift of taking the most outlandish liberties and making them seem quite natural,” she tossed over her shoulder.

He caught up with her in a few strides. “I have a lot of practice.”

“I wager you do.”

She sounded angry. Good. Perhaps he’d finally managed to crack a bit of her hard interior… as she had managed to relieve some of his infinite boredom.

The tunnel finally widened and Gareth stared at the hulking black castle seemingly carved out of the stone wall opposite them. It lacked the defenses of a typical castle, boasting only crenellated walls and a portcullis. More palace than castle. “This is your home?”

“No,” she replied. “I can’t go home yet. This monstrous pile of stone belongs to His Grace, the Duke of Ghoulston.”

He frowned. “Why can’t you go home?”

For a moment he thought he saw a shadow of her were-beast, a vague outline of fang and whisker. “Because the duke has something precious of mine. And he won’t return it until I give him something in exchange.”

She strode up to the portcullis and spoke to the guards on the other side of the iron grating. “The duke is waiting for me.”

“That we know, Millicent,” answered a giant of a man with red hair. “He is pacing the study as we speak.”

“Then you’d best let me in,” she replied. The giant eyed Gareth. “He’s with me. His Grace will want to see him.”

“Perhaps. But he’ll not enter until he gives up his weapons.”

Gareth folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. He’d had the pleasure of a pistol only for a few moments and felt loathe to give it up. But his lady touched his arm and beseeched him with her eyes. So, to win her favor, he would be required to enter the monster’s lair unarmed. He huffed a breath and handed his weapons to the guard.

The portcullis rattled up with a shriek of grating steel. The giant followed close behind them as they passed into a courtyard strewn with some type of colorless trees that apparently didn’t need the sun for nourishment. He took Millicent’s elbow as they ascended steps of some blackish stone to a wooden door carved with ancient runes. Powerful wards shivered his skin as they passed into the hall.

Gareth stared at the lewd images carved into statues and sewn into tapestries. “You did not say, lady, what you are giving the duke in exchange for your precious thing. Although I can guess.”

She turned that amber-gold gaze upon him again. “And you would be right. I must give him you, Sir Gareth Solimere.”

Millicent expected more of a reaction from the knight, yet he appeared unruffled by her words. He just nodded his head and continued to stare at the duke’s wicked artwork with a knowing smile.

She’d never met a man who smiled so much. It made her uncomfortable. Possibly because every time he did so, she felt his charisma like a tangible thing and had to stop her body from swaying into his arms. He was simply the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life, and despite the warnings in her head, she wanted to touch him.

She could kick herself.

A door opened down the long hallway and slammed shut, the sound echoing along the cold stone floor and up to the high ceiling. A woman glided toward them, her footsteps soundless, her arms slightly spread beneath a sheer black pelerine. She wore a black silk dress covered in glittering black beads, the neckline so low Millicent marveled that her flesh didn’t pop out of the top. More black beads dotted the elegant coiffure of her brown hair, the entire effect of her costume making her look like glittering midnight.

“Hello, Selena,” sighed Millicent.

“Ah, the she-cat returns. With the prize, I assume?”

Millicent felt too tired to play any of Selena’s games. “Just take me to Ghoulston.”

“Not so fast,” she replied, her lips barely moving with her words. “Who have we here?”

Millicent felt the exact moment Selena’s eyes met Sir Gareth’s. A crackle of heat flared from Selena to the knight, a physical awareness that annoyed Millicent to no end. With Gareth’s sensuality and Selena’s lust for anything with blood flowing through its veins, she should have expected it. Still, she had to resist the urge to step between the two of them.

He bowed, his wavy blond hair tumbling over his forehead, making him appear even more rakish. “Sir Gareth Solimere. I’m honored, my lady.”

“How delightful,” crowed Selena. “Please rise, brave knight.”

Millicent rolled her eyes. Selena ignored her, gliding over to Gareth with a closed-mouth smile. She placed her hand on his shoulder, where the blood had dried on the torn cloth of his tunic. He didn’t flinch and Millicent marveled at how quickly his injury had healed.

“And what are you doing with her, Sir Gareth? A man of your nature requires a more… inspired companion,” Selena said.

He smiled and a red glow shimmered in the depths of Selena’s glossy black eyes. Millicent knew Gareth could take care of himself, even without the benefit of his sword. He’d proven his prowess when he’d fought two were-beasts and managed to survive the encounter relatively unscathed. She might even owe him her life. She should also expect that any woman he encountered would respond to his obvious charms.

And that Selena would lust after fresh blood.

But for some reason, Millicent couldn’t bear to watch the two of them trade knowing looks. Couldn’t stomach Selena’s possessive smile. Her annoyance turned to severe irritation. “I shall be happy to inform His Grace that you kept him waiting.”

Selena turned and hissed at her, finally forgetting to keep her lips over her teeth, revealing two sharp front teeth and even pointier fangs at the corners of her mouth. “You are never any fun, Millicent. One day I’ll find out if the blood in your veins truly does run so cold.” She spun, a glitter of black silk, and headed back down the hall.