Awakening Beauty (12 page)

Aurora dropped a kiss on his chest, and was gratified to feel his instant caress in response. “I don’t believe that,” she said roundly. “You’re too interesting a person.”

“You said yourself you don’t get out much!” The sardonic smile began to fade from his lips. “Perhaps that’s what draws us together. Loneliness.”

“It’s more than that,” Aurora said at once. “You must feel it.”

Then she wished she hadn’t spoken with so much intensity, for a slightly strained, anxious look crossed his face. He pulled himself into a sitting position, as if disengaging from her, but instinct made her cling on and in the end he didn’t object, merely settled her more comfortably on his lap and kissed her.

“Like I said, you confuse me. I’m no hero, Aurora, no fairytale prince.”

“Are you warning me off?” she demanded.

“No. Yes. Maybe.” The words weren’t particularly encouraging, but since his arms tightened around her as he spoke, and he buried his face in her hair as if trying to inhale her, she let them pass.

“You’re a good man,” she said, grasping him by the shoulders to look into his face. “With a lot to give to the world as well as to any woman lucky enough to win your love. You’ve been a driven man, I can see that, but you’re running out of excuses.”

He blinked. “Excuses?”

“There’s always time for love.”

Abruptly, as if the last word bothered him, he rolled her onto her back. Aurora’s pulse leapt at the prospect of even more lovemaking, but having pinned her ruthlessly under his body, he merely stared down into her face.

“I can’t make up my mind,” he said slowly, “whether you’re very naïve, or very wise.”

“Does it matter, if I make you happy?”

His lips curved into a smile as he brought them down on hers. “No,” he said into her mouth. “No.”

Chapter Nine

The raven swooped down from the sky and landed on a tree branch, its weight setting the bough swaying. Pigeons that had been contentedly cooing and strutting over the ground looking for stray tidbits rose into the air
en masse
and flew to the shelter of the building eaves where they roosted. The red-eyed raven watched the silly birds flutter madly. They knew she was not a predator that would attack them but sensed something dangerous about her that put them to flight.

Foolish though they may be, the birds were smarter than humans. Even when she was cloaked in her feathered form, the pigeons could see Valborga’s true nature, whereas she could walk among mortals every day and none of them sensed her otherness.

How many years had she dwelled on this earth, generation after generation passing away, and none of them aware of her true face and form, her imprisoned power? Now her time had almost come, the period of enforced hibernation was over, and her magic would soon bloom into full glory again. This time there would be no pesky sisters to hobble her by modifying her spells or limiting her strength. The others of her kind had gone away along with the rest of the magic that used to fill the world so when Valborga finally achieved full potency she would reign supreme.

Only one thing stood between her and her ascendancy, and she was watching the annoying wench right now. Little Aurora, bane of her existence. The girl was like a cockroach that just could not be crushed. Right now she hung on her lover’s arm, pointing at the Brea Monument that towered over the surrounding buildings like a shining crystal beacon. The princess was clearly impressed and chattering away, while Joel smiled at her with the fond indulgence of a besotted lover. Disgusting creatures, the pair of them. But Valborga would take what she needed from each of them.

Attempting to keep them in the castle had been a mistake, as had been her flare of temper that had caused the fire in the motel. Trapping or killing these two wouldn’t help her. She needed things they possessed. Aurora’s blood was nectar that she would drink deeply, and Joel Thorne’s human strength, along with his financial power, would give her the last piece she needed to achieve the height of her glory. She would make use of both the rose and the thorn, the transformative liquid and the earthly necessity.

A thousand years was almost over, the protection spell already breaking, and her metaphoric wings were about to unfurl and spread their shadow across the land.

With a guttural croak, the raven lifted off the tree branch and flapped her wings to gain height before following the oblivious lovers on their tour of the city.

“Tell me more about the woman for whom the tower was named,” Aurora begged. “She must have been a remarkable person for a building to bear her name after so many years.”

“The legend goes that Queen Brea’s father was the king of the underworld and her mother was a simple miller’s daughter who became queen by accident. There’s a bit about spinning straw into gold and a journey to the underworld and some kind of bet. I only vaguely remember the story from when I was a kid, but apart from the fairytale aspect, Queen Brea was real enough. They say she ushered in an era of prosperity and peace.”

Joel clasped Aurora’s hand and swung it lightly. When was the last time he’d spent a day like this on what normal people would call a real date, simply meandering along and looking at the city in which he lived?

“What happened to her?” Aurora prompted.

“History’s sketchy. There was a long, bleak period after her reign. Things fell apart. Warlords representing various factions clashed. Information and records were destroyed. No one really knows the exact causes, but the so-called Golden Age ended and chaos ruled for quite some time. But eventually science and reason helped us achieve not only useful inventions but a better way of governing ourselves—democracy over dictatorship.”

“Now your government officials are elected?” Aurora’s fine brows puckered as she mulled over the history lesson. God, she was adorable when she was serious.

“Yes, at least in this country. And yours,” he added. “No monarchy in Schlaushagen for many years.”

“And no magic,” she added. “No one believes in spells or conjuring, wizards, fairies or magical beings any longer?”

“No. There’s no sign of it in this world. I’ve never seen anything remotely paranormal up until a few days ago and those crazy vines.” It had crept up on him, this slow belief in her story, not just because it was the only theory that fit the available facts, but because of her. Because of last night’s relaxed closeness. It simply wasn’t possible to spend all night in Aurora’s arms and still think her insane. He’d never even mentioned the hospital to her.

“I wonder where the magic went and why Valborga still has her powers? Perhaps one has something to do with the other.” She looked up and froze, transfixed by an enormous, colorful billboard across the front of a building. The moving ad displayed a clip from a current theater musical. Aurora smiled in delight at the flashy dance number. She was even more adorable when she was happy.

“What is this? Can we see it on the television too?”

“No, that’s a live show. I can buy tickets and take you.” He spoke without thinking of anything besides seeing more of that enraptured expression on her face.

She turned to him, her face so radiant it practically burned him. “Truly? That would be wonderful.”

“I’ll see what I can do about getting seats for tonight.” Joel was amazed at how much he wanted to please her. He wished he could do something bigger, greater than buy a couple of theater tickets, or the pretty necklace they’d seen in a shop window this morning. She made him want to be heroic or commit some grand gesture to prove his worthiness—like some ridiculous knight errant jousting with his lady’s handkerchief tied around his arm. What the hell had come over him? He was losing his pragmatic self more with every moment he spent in Aurora’s company.

Joel looked away from her. “Come on. We’ll take a ferry ride so you can see the city from the water.” As they walked to the waterfront he busied himself with making reservations by phone for the show and for a trendy restaurant. He’d show Aurora a good time, all the while keeping his eyes open for another attack from the mysterious force that seemed bent on hurting her. But he wouldn’t become too attached. If sex was binding them closer and closer, he should sever that connection. He couldn’t deal with the emotional bond that seemed to be entwining them as surely as the thick vines that had barred their exit from the castle. Such strength of feeling frankly scared the hell out of him.

Keep it light, Joel. Show her a good time, get her set up in the world, and then walk away.
You have too much work to do to become involved with this girl.

But as Aurora excitedly gripped his arm and called his attention to the amusement park on the wharf, Joel feared it was already too late. He was, to use an old-fashioned word, smitten. Struck hard by the desire to cherish and protect this innocent yet wise young woman who’d bloomed in his life like an unexpected flower shooting up from a crack in the asphalt.

By the time they’d ridden the carousel, the Ferris wheel, which left Aurora breathless, and a rinky-dink rollercoaster that left imprints of her fingers on Joel’s arm, he decided they’d had enough excitement for one day.

However, there was more to come, for as they began to stroll toward the exit a child, who’d somehow managed to free himself from his safety harness, stood up on the still-spinning merry-go-round, crying for his mother as he stumbled into the hardness of brightly painted horses and fire engines with flashing lights.

Although the youth in control of the ride immediately put the brakes on it, the child wouldn’t wait and tumbled off the platform before anyone could reach him. He fell heavily, screaming with fear and pain. Since the woman who was clearly the boy’s mother rushed to him immediately, Joel felt no need to intervene. Aurora, however, bolted across to the scene, her compassion, presumably, outweighing her knowledge of her own uselessness in such a situation. She was a pampered princess who hadn’t been able to dress herself until two days ago. How did she imagine she could aid an injured child?

Nevertheless, Joel felt his heart warm to her instinctive desire to help. She really was adorable when she demonstrated her caring. As he strolled forward in her wake, he realized that not for the first time he’d misjudged her. The child’s mother knelt by his side, her hands tugging at her hair while she screamed for an ambulance. It was Aurora who stroked the boy’s hair and spoke to him in low, soothing tones that calmed him, while with her free hand she felt his arms and legs. Joel realized she was asking him about where the pain was, and receiving answers that she seemed to understand.

The mother stopped screaming too.

“I think his arm’s broken,” Aurora said to her quietly. And certainly it lay at a very peculiar angle. “A physician must set it.”

Tears still streamed down the boy’s cheeks, agony glared out of his terrified eyes and twisted, trembling lips. Aurora, still touching his arm, frowned in concentration, then suddenly jerked it.

The boy gasped. His eyes widened and a smile lit his face like the sun after a storm. “That’s better,” he said.

Aurora smiled from him to the stunned mother. “Not broken,” she said. “Just…” She struggled for the right words. “…knocked out of place.”

“Dislocated.” Joel supplied the word, staring at the kid in wonder.

“Oh,” said the mother, understanding dawning on her relieved face. “Thank you so much, miss. You’ve saved us a doctor’s bill too.”

“How did you know?” Joel demanded when he managed to drag Aurora away. He was ridiculously proud of her and yet only too aware of the harm that would have come both to the child and to Aurora if she’d been wrong in her snap diagnosis.

“It didn’t feel
right
,” Aurora said airily. “I felt around it and knew where it should be. And then I realized the bones all felt straight and unbroken. The same thing used to happen to my father’s best hunting hound. I watched once, as its keeper jerked the leg back into place. The next time it happened, I did it.” She laughed. “My mother said bone-setting was not a suitable occupation for a princess. She said the same about midwifery when the kitchen maid…”

As if struck, she stopped in her tracks and Joel had to pull her along by the arm. “Do you have female physicians in this age?” she asked.

“Yes, of course.”

She said nothing more, but for some time after, her face wore a thoughtful expression that Joel found it hard to look away from.

At last she said, “And doctors must be paid. You paid the doctor in Schlaushagen, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“But you are wealthy. That woman, the boy’s mother, she would have struggled to pay if they’d needed a doctor?”

“Maybe. There are ways of saving, but many people do still struggle. Actually, that’s one of the issues I want to bring before the Assembly—a reform of our health service to make it fairer and more accessible to all.”

He stopped, wondering if she would understand what he was talking about, but she nodded, hugging his arm to her side and smiling at him with all the force of a sunbeam. It felt like a reward before he’d even done anything, and his rebellious loins stirred.

After the excitement in the park, rather than ride the tourist ferry, they returned to his apartment to rest before going out again.

He knew he was in trouble from the moment they hit the door. His desire for her had been growing all day as they did the sightseeing thing. In fact, he’d dragged her beneath the boardwalk near the amusement park and they’d made out for a while. Joel had felt like a teenager again, frantically groping, dry humping and kissing in a semi-public place because he and his girlfriend had no place else to go. But he wasn’t a kid anymore. He did have a home to return to and by the time he reached it he knew his intention to put a stop to sex with Aurora was going to be impossible to adhere to.

They were both stripped bare before they reached the bedroom, a trail of clothes strewn throughout the apartment. Joel tumbled her back on the bed and dove into her outstretched arms. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling his head down for a kiss. He groaned as he sank into her softness and tasted her sugary mouth, sweet from the slushie she’d drunk at the pier.