Goddess of the Rose (16 page)

“I know there's only one chair, but we can pull another out here from my room.” Her mouth already watering, Mikki looked back at the table. “And there's plenty for two. Why don't you join me?”

Slanting one more nervous glance at the shadows, Gii returned her smile but shook her head. “No, Empousa. You are weary. It is best that you are given the privacy to eat and then sleep.” The handmaiden started to depart. Then, changing her mind, she turned back and took a few hurried steps toward Mikki until her delicate face was more clearly visible. “Mikado, please forgive my impertinence, but I cannot remain silent.”

“What is it, Gii?”

The young handmaiden closed the distance between them and knelt beside Mikki, taking her hands in her own. Though her voice was hardly louder than a whisper, she spoke with quiet intensity that demanded Mikki's attention. “Your destiny and that of this realm are now woven unalterably together. The choices you make affect more than you know.”

Though she was feeling like a fish out of water, Mikki did recognize Gii's concern as real.

“I'll remember, Gii.” Not knowing what else to say she added, “I'll be careful. Promise.”

Looking relieved, Gii nodded and squeezed her hands before letting them go. “You did well tonight, Empousa. Welcome to your destiny.” She curtseyed deeply and then padded softly to the stairs and disappeared as swiftly and silently as if she really had been only a dream.

Finally, she was alone. What had that been all about? Too damn tired to give Gii's weird behavior and cryptic advice much thought, Mikki stretched and then rolled her shoulders. Her neck was killing her, and her body felt stiff and sore. What the heck was wrong with her? She should spend more time in the gym (who shouldn't?). But she didn't think she was in such bad shape that frolicking about for an hour or so should make her feel like an old woman, or like a young one who had just taken a beating.

Her hands shook as she forked cheese and meat onto her plate, but as soon as she'd swallowed a few bites of the delicious fare she began to feel more settled. Mikki shivered and pulled the blanket off the back of the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. Warmer, she broke off a hunk of bread and sighed happily as she bit into the soft center. She imagined that it somehow fed her soul as well as her body. A beautiful candelabrum sat across from her place setting, like a silent dinner partner who came to the table just to illuminate. Its light danced off a crystal goblet filled with dark red wine. She lifted it, admiring the elaborate rose design etched into its surface and appreciating that someone had already filled her glass as well as left an entire pitcher of wine for her personal use. If any occasion called for wine drinking—lots of wine drinking—tonight was one. Mikki glanced around her, trying to see if there was any movement in the deepening shadows of the balcony. Everything was still; it seemed she really was completely alone.

Raising the goblet to her lips, she paused, brows drawn together in confusion. Floating in the middle of the tiny scarlet sea was a rose blossom, so deeply red that it appeared almost black.

What the heck was a flower doing in the middle of her glass of wine? Not sure of the correct protocol for extracting a rose blossom from wine, Mikki glanced from the table to the crystal goblet. Should she pull it out with her fingers? Or was she supposed to use a fork? Maybe a dessert spoon would be more appropriate?

“I can't even call for a new glass,” she muttered, thinking that finding a rosebud in her wine was a perfect punctuation mark to a truly bizarre day. “What would I say? Hey, waiter, or in this case, handmaiden, there's a rose in my soup, uh, glass, uh, wine.” She shook her head and laughed aloud. “Doesn't it just figure?”

“The Ancients believed that a glass of wine could not be fully enjoyed unless there was a rose blossom afloat within it.” The deep, powerful voice rumbled from the area of the balcony that was shrouded in the darkest shadows, washing around her and causing the hair on her body to prickle. “It is a belief to which I adhere.”

Mikki jumped and fumbled with the glass, almost dropping it.

“Forgive me for startling you, Empousa.”

“I just wasn't expecting a . . .” Mikki faltered, trying to see through the shadows. She could discern only darkness within darkness, but she didn't need to see him. She knew to whom the voice must belong. Her stomach tightened. She took a deep breath and pulled the blanket more securely around her shoulders, suddenly very aware that she hadn't changed from the ceremonial dress that exposed far too much of her body. “I thought I was alone,” she said, amazed that her voice sounded so normal.

“I did not mean to disturb you. I came only to see that you grounded yourself after the ritual.”

Mikki stared blankly in the direction of the faceless voice. Ignoring the rose blossom, she took a long drink of wine.
It was him—the statue—the beast from her dreams—the creature who had stalked her through

the rose garden.
Unlike her voice, her hands could not hide their emotions so easily and she had to wrap both of them around the goblet so their shaking didn't clatter the crystal against her teeth.

When she didn't respond, he continued speaking in that preternaturally powerful voice that was at such odds with his civilized words.

“Again, Empousa, I ask that you excuse my lack of judgment. I thought only to see that all was acceptable to you so your grounding could be completed. I did not intend to disturb or to discomfort you.”

She stared into the dark space from which the voice originated.

“You did all this?”

“I directed the servants, yes. Empousa, you must always remember to eat and drink after you cast the sacred circle and perform any ritual. In that way you will once again be grounded to this world. If you do not, you will feel weak and sick at heart.”

Mikki had to swallow down a hysterical bubble of laughter. She was conversing about post-goddess ritual rules with the living statue of a beast who talked like a college professor in a voice that could have belonged to Godzilla.

It was totally fucking Loony Tunes.

Mikki took another long gulp of wine. This time the scent of the rosebud tickled her nose and she noticed the way its elusive sweetness heightened the richness of the wine. She put down the goblet and looked out across the table. Fine linens. Beautiful porcelain china. A crystal goblet and pitcher etched with a rose design. Plates heaped with carefully chosen delicacies. A blanket and warm, comfortable slippers. He had ordered all of this for her?

Mikki glanced at the corner of the balcony and then hastily averted her eyes and poured herself some more wine. His silence was making her even more nervous than his inhumanly powerful voice. Had he left? Was he sneaking up on her? Stalking her?

The erotic chase scene from her last dream teased through her memory, causing her cheeks to flush and nervous words to rush too loudly from her lips.

“I didn't know about the grounding. And everything is delicious. I guess I owe you my thanks.” She wanted to bite her lip at her idiocy. She
guessed
she owed him her thanks?

“You owe me no thanks, Empousa. I am Guardian of this realm, and as such it is my duty to see to the welfare of those within the realm, which includes Hecate's High Priestess,” he said gruffly.

“Oh, well,” she mumbled, feeling awkward and not knowing what to say, but wanting to be polite. “Still, I appreciate—”

“Do not!”

She felt the force of the command against her skin. It battered her and made the flush that had heated her cheeks drain white and cold. Hecate's assurance that the beast wouldn't harm her seemed only weak, faraway words. Mikki pressed her hands into the arms of the chair and bunched her legs under her, preparing to sprint for her room. Maybe he wouldn't come inside the palace. Or maybe she could call for help and . . .

“Forgive me. It seems I have again frightened you. That was not my intention. It is just that your appreciation is not appropriate. What I did for you is out of duty. It is why Hecate called me into her service. Do you understand?”

He was clearly trying to modulate his voice to a softer, less- intimidating timbre. She recognized the attempt, even though he was being only partially successful. Instead of answering right away, Mikki took her death grip from the chair handle and, two-handed, lifted the wineglass to her lips. After she'd had another fortifying drink she stared into the darkness again. This was ridiculous and twice as scary because she was talking to a disembodied voice and letting her imagination fill in all the gory details of his appearance.

“I'm trying to understand, but it's not easy. Especially when I can't see who I'm talking to.”

There was a long pause. And then he stepped from the darkness. The crystal goblet slid from between her numb fingers and shattered against the marble floor. He made a movement like he was going to approach her, and with a rush of adrenaline, Mikki surged to her feet, knocking over her chair with jerky, panic-laced haste. Shards of broken crystal crunched under her feet.

Instantly, he halted. “Have care where you step. The glass can cut through the soles of your slippers.” The words were meant to be gentle, but the voice that spoke them rumbled with an inhumanly thunderous warning.

Mikki couldn't breathe. She couldn't make her vocal cords work. She could only stare at the creature. Then he sighed, and it was in that lonely, wordless sound that she heard the echo of a familiar roar. That one small thing pushed through her panic, allowing her to draw a gasping breath.

“I did not come to you tonight to harm you. You have my oath that you are in no danger.”

Her lips felt cold and numb, but she forced herself to speak. “You're the statue. The one from the rose gardens.”

He nodded his massive head. “Yes, you have known me only as I was in your world, entombed in marble amidst the roses. Now that I have awakened, I have resumed my rightful position as Guardian of the Realm of the Rose.”

Mikki brushed a shaking hand across her forehead, trying to clear her mind.

The creature took a step closer to her, his hooves thudding inhumanly against the silent balcony.

“No!” she blurted, blood pounding in her ears. “Stay away!”

As if to show that he meant no harm, he raised one huge hand toward her, palm up. Except for its size it appeared normal, but Mikki was sure she caught a flash of the candlelight glinting off something sharp and deadly. She stared at his hand without blinking.

He closed the hand and let it fall to his side, where it was enveloped in shadow. “I was only concerned that you might faint.”

“I'm fine,” she said automatically, but she did pick her way carefully among the pieces of broken glass, righted her chair and sank into it before her legs gave way. “I don't faint.” She forced herself to sound as normal as possible. He said he wouldn't hurt her. Hecate said he wouldn't hurt her. And, anyway, if he was going to attack her, it would do no damn good for her to hyperventilate and freak out. She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. “Really, I'm fine,” she repeated, more for her own assurance than his.

“You should eat,” he said. “It will strengthen you.”

She just stared at him. How the hell was she supposed to eat with him standing there?

She was surprised to easily recognize comprehension on a face that was so alien. And at the same time she recognized something else, something that clouded his powerful voice like fog. Sadness . . .

Did he really sound sad, or was she just imagining it?

“I should leave you to your meal. First allow me to . . .” He broke off and spoke a sharp, unintelligible command. He held out one large hand, and instantly a crystal goblet, identical to the one she had broken, appeared in midair. His hand closed around it.

A noise, somewhere between a sob and a scream, squeaked from Mikki's lips.

“Did you not desire another glass?” he asked.

Mikki could only nod. Her swarming thoughts semi-hysterically said that what she really wanted was a valium to go with the wine.

He was watching her closely, and she thought his expression might have softened, but his face was so fierce that it was hard to tell. “May I bring this glass to you?”

She hesitated and then nodded again with a quick, slight movement.

Slowly, he stalked forward with an athletic grace that was as powerful as it was feral. His ebony hooves echoing against marble sounded unnaturally loud in the silence of the balcony. Mikki couldn't look away from him. As he moved closer to her, she couldn't help pushing herself against the back of her chair, where she sat rigid and unmoving. Her heart was pounding hot and loud in her ears, and for a moment, she thought she might make a liar out of herself and actually faint.

Would he catch her if she did? The thought of him touching her shivered through her body.

When he reached the broken glass he made a dismissive gesture with one hand and muttered a word under his breath.

The shards instantly obeyed him, blowing off the balcony in a tiny crystal tornado.

Then he stood beside the table. This close the light from the candelabrum flickered over him, illuminating the hard, inhumanly muscular lines of his body. He kept very still, allowing her time to study him and to become accustomed to his nearness.

The statue in the park had not been clothed, but the living Guardian was. He wore a black leather breastplate over a short tunic. The outfit reminded her of something Russell Crowe would have worn in
Gladiator
, except had the two stood side by side, the Guardian would have made the Aussie actor look like a boy in dress-up clothes.