Lyon (31 page)

Entering the house, they took Elise upstairs and Sibela settled her on a bed as Juliette directed, then helped exchange Juliette's wet dress for a dry one.

“Is it true? What he said? That he was my brother. And Elise's?”

Sibela nodded.

“How appalling. That must be why our magic didn't work on him. We both tried it on him and sometimes on each other, but to no avail.”

“There's nothing more you can do for her now,” said Sibela once Elise had been tucked in. “She'll sleep for a day or more. Come, see me off.” She headed for the stairs.

“Off?” Juliette glanced at Elise, who seemed to be resting comfortably, then reluctantly followed Sibela downstairs.

“Off to Paris and my new home.”

“What about Giselle?”

Sibela waved a careless hand. “She's better off here.”

Juliette dogged her outside to where Valmont's horse was tethered. Without thinking, she stroked its muzzle. Only then did she realize she seemed to have completely abandoned her fear of animals with today's revelations. Lyon had said things would be easier for her here on his land and he'd been right.

An odd look crossed Sibela's face as she swung up on horseback. “This new body yearns for liquor.”

“Absinthe,” said Juliette. “Valmont was addicted to it.”

Sibela sighed. “I suppose I'll sicken for a while as I fight his addiction?”

“It's not easily fought.”

“But I'll win. This body is too indispensable to me to rot it out.”

Juliette hesitated, then said, “You may sojourn here with us while you fight it if you wish. Traveling will be difficult otherwise.”

Sibela eyes sharpened. “I'm not he, you know.”

“I know,” said Juliette, contrite. “I'm sorry. It's hard to remember.”

“I will be different than him. I am myself and I have forced his essence too deep for it to have any influence over me. Regardless, you won't have to look at me—or him—much longer.”

Lifting the flogger she found on the saddle, Sibela absently stroked its knotted leather tails. “By the way, who is Gina?”

Juliette's eyes went to the whip. “She's, um, one of the women Valmont employs…I mean, that
you
employ in the Paris house. To entertain gentlemen.”

Sibela flicked the leather, making a popping noise in the air. Her horse shifted, nervous. “She likes this,” she stated. Her eyes sought Juliette's for confirmation.

Juliette nodded. “Yes.”

Sibela ran the leather strips across her palm one last time, then set the whip into its holster. She might not be human, but the half smile that played on her lips was more human than any Juliette recalled seeing on Valmont's face before. “I'll look forward to meeting her.”

Suddenly, she began to wonder exactly what uses Sibela might have put Elise's body to while she had inhabited it. “Will Elise have memories of the past three years?”

Sibela glanced at her, understanding her underlying concern. “It was never my intention to hurt her body. On the contrary, I was grateful for the use of it. And I took care of it in my own fashion. I realize it's no longer as pristine as you or she might prefer. Alas, I have a voracious need for fucking. Not so immense as your Satyr lover's perhaps, but still large.”

“You forced Elise to have carnal relations with men other than Lyon?”

“Men, women…and other creatures. But there was no force involved. She was entirely sublimated during my inhabitation.”

“But will she remember?”

Sibela shrugged, then wheeled her mount around. “I don't know. You'll have to ask her.”

Lyon paused outside the door of the chamber Juliette had arranged for her sister a week ago. It was just down the hall from their own, uncomfortably close. But he'd made no objection.

“You'll never guess, Elise, I've become an accomplished cook!” Juliette was saying. “It's nothing for me to prepare a dinner for two dozen guests or a party for even more. Lyon adores the crème brûlée Madame Fouche taught us to make that summer. Remember?”

“Yes.” Elise's voice was listless, a frail echo of Juliette's patter.

“Remember how Madame used to despair of us, the way we ran wild through the countryside? And the pomegranates we pilfered from the orchards of Monsieur Ramsay? Our lips and fingers would be bright red, yet we would protest our innocence.”

“Umm-hmm.”

Lyon nudged the door open and saw that his daughter lay sleeping in a bassinette Juliette had placed in the room. Though she continued to bring her into Elise's sphere, like Sibela, Elise had shown no interest in his offspring as yet. Giselle had been entirely relegated to the care of Juliette and a wet nurse.

Setting aside the brush that she'd been using on her sister, Juliette smiled at him in welcome.

“She'll be bald soon if you keep tending to her.” He came to stand by the bed and they both looked at the woman lying there.

Elise blinked at them, silent.

“She looks well, doesn't she?” asked Juliette.

No. She didn't. She looked like a beautiful wraith. The dress she wore did nothing to disguise the scars on her chest that had been made by the hounds that had attacked her. She seemed to purposely choose such outfits and keep them unbuttoned as if determined to make everyone she met uncomfortable.

Lyon fingered Sibela's necklaces, which lay abandoned on the bedside table, pulling one out. It was a long strand with a pendant hanging from it. He remembered Sibela wearing it, and had seen one like it gracing Juliette's throat.

“I took them off her,” said Juliette. “They seemed to be irritating her skin.”

“That one burned,” said Elise, nodding at the beads he held and touching her chest.

Lyon studied the shape of the burn scar she'd indicated. It matched the shape of the pendant. “It's iron,” he said. “Iron burns the faerie.”

“But I've touched iron often enough and come to no harm,” said Juliette.

“It only burns a fourth child of the fey. Not a first or a second or third. It means you're the last born of your sisters,” Lyon told Elise.

“Has it always burned you?” Juliette asked her, looking concerned.

Elise shrugged. “I rarely wore it but I had it on that day we were attacked, and Sibela kept it on.”

“
Scusi
,” Lyon murmured, as something occurred to him. “I need a word with Nicholas, and I sense he's just arrived downstairs.”

Suddenly Elise's eyes darted to his, sparking with more enthusiasm than he'd yet seen in them. “Yes,” she murmured as if she'd read his thoughts. “My answer is yes.”

Juliette looked between them and slowly rose to her feet. “There was no question asked.”

Lyon went to the railing just outside the bedchamber and bellowed for his brother.

“He asked one.” Elise frowned, fingering the bedcovers. “Didn't he?”

“Not aloud,” said Lyon, returning to consider her.

“Oh.”

“Nicholas meets with the ElseWorld elders today,” he said. “They're demanding that you be turned over to them, Juliette. You're not yet wed and not yet a mother, so they consider you fair game. You will of course not be handed over, but this means there will be further difficulties. More attempts from them to storm the gate between their world and this one. They would bring their wars here if they could, but Elise—”

“What does that have to do with Elise?” Nicholas asked, overhearing as he entered the room.

“They demand that a daughter of King Feydon wed one of their leaders.” Lyon gave his brother a significant look, and sudden comprehension crossed Nicholas' face.

“Yes,” whispered Elise, rising to stand beside the bed.

“No!” Juliette gasped.

“If Elise agrees, their demands will be satisfied,” said Nicholas.

“What's to stop them from using her blood to cross over to this world?” Juliette protested.

“She's a fourth child. As such, her blood is unusable to them for such purposes,” said Lyon.

“Won't they be angry when they find they've been duped?”

“They'll be made aware of it beforehand, but the gift of her will mollify them.”

“It seems a perfect solution,” said Nicholas.

“For everyone but my sister!” shouted Juliette.

“I said I'll go.” Elise's voice was still creaky with disuse.

“No!” Juliette repeated whipping around to her, then calming her tone. “There's no obligation to do so. You've been through enough!”

She turned to Lyon, expectantly. “Hasn't she?”

“I can't give you the answer you want, Juliette. It is her decision.”

“Elise, please. Give yourself time to heal. Time to better consider this decision,” Juliette begged. She took her sister's hands in hers, but Elise gently pulled away as if her touch had hurt.

“Time is a luxury we don't have,” said Nicholas. “A decision must be made now. When I leave this room, I go to the gate.”

Elise put on her slippers. “I'm ready.”

“You belong with me,” said Juliette. “If you leave I go with you!”

“No!” Lyon, Nicholas, and Elise all spoke at the same time.

“I'm not the same girl you knew,” Elise told her, trying to explain. “I hardly remember that summer. But I remember everything of the last three years. Much of the time, I wanted to die. Imagine being a puppet, at the mercy of another's whims and actions.” She shook her head, unwilling to go on.

Juliette looked to Lyon for help. “But I've just found her again.”

Elise stepped toward Nicholas and the door. “Try to understand. Our lives have taken vastly different paths. I have been so long in the company of another. My heartbeat owned. I've done and seen things that make me unfit for a place here.”

Lyon could see that her every word was like a poisonous stake being driven into Juliette's own heart.

“Sibela led her down paths we cannot know,” he said as kindly as possible. “She has her own demons to face. Let her face them as she must.”

“There's a summit in ElseWorld, which is what we'll be attending,” Nicholas told Elise. “Many there will vie to wed you, but you will choose when, whom, and whether to marry.”

Elise nodded, then returned to Juliette and voluntarily embraced her for the first time since Sibela had departed. It was obvious this scheme had breathed new life into her. “Don't be angry with him,” she whispered. “Lyon is a good man. He loves you. I'm glad to know you have this family. This life. It's perfect.”

Juliette's grip tightened. “Then why not stay?”

Elise tugged away. “It's perfect for you. Not for me. This task I undertake will give me a purpose.”

“We're in your debt,” said Lyon as she passed him on the way to the door. “You'll be able to return to us once a year.”

Elise smiled, her eyes showing the first glimmer of humor he had yet seen in her. “Like Persephone from Hades.”

Nicholas gestured her forward. And then she was gone and he after her.

A month later, a letter came, rendering Juliette free to wed and giving her a poignant glimpse into her past. It read:

EarthWorld, Tuscany, Italy, January, 1824, Moonful

F
or the first time in ages, there were six who gathered in the sacred glen, which had been designed centuries ago by the hands of Gods. Three daughters of a Fey king and three sons of the ancient Satyr, together.

Just outside the glen, snow was falling, crisp and bloodless. But here, all was warm. It was as if they and this sanctum were encased in some glorious, giant snowglobe. But the snow fell outside of the realm where they convened rather than inside.

Under a moon that was a fat, triumphant orb of light, six became three, as couples united. To the susurrous song of swaying oak, ash, hawthorn, and cypress, they added the sounds of humid slaps, joyful shouts, and lusty moans that accompanied their lovemaking.

And with their joining, their circle was complete.

As they drove their bodies higher and higher in celebration of primordial ritual, masculine seed was spilled. Juices rich with their life blood flowed into vines, old and new. Rejuvenating. Lending them the strength and character of those that guarded this land. And continuing their tradition of safekeeping the legacy of Bacchus, the God of Wine—most revered of the ancients.

And with their joining, vines that had been grafted to one another by man, turned fruitful.

These vines had been brought together in unlikely pairs, much like the three couples who now populated the glen. This rootstock from two continents—America and Europe—also coupled here on this night to become one. First buds formed like magic. And with the first buds came flowers, and then grapes, one after the other as if seasons were passing in an instant.

Two days from now other winegrowers would assemble elsewhere on the estate to view these very vines and would find them well developed and ready to be promulgated as new stock of their own. Through these vines, an entire industry would be saved from a destruction that had been caused by the tiniest of marauders—the phylloxera.

Nearly two months had passed since Juliette had come to this land. Tonight was her first mating with her new husband here in the glen. By this physical sharing in this particular place on this particular night, any mischief she'd made for him in Paris would be forever healed.

The sweet decay of vegetation as it returned to the soil from which it had sprung filled her lungs, but she was unafraid of nature now. Shaded by trees, the lush earth was a dappled blue-black, and she relished the wild beauty of it. Amid statues and altars, Lyon made love to her—a full love wrought of body, mind, and heart. And in this Calling she would willingly accept her husband's seed, and it would find fecund soil within her and be nurtured there.

And by their joining, two precious children would begin to grow.

Their
children. A son, Marcus Lyon. And a daughter, Fleur Elise. Juliette, who'd had no one of her own only a few months ago, now had many in her life to love and to love her. And it seemed that next Moonful she would give birth, and her family would expand.

Tonight marked a new beginning.

A new life.

One filled with family and hope and love.

She looked forward to it.