Fantastical
Page 101
And there were also three women and considering their men held two of them closely, protectively, the same as Tor was right then holding me, I knew which ones were Finnie (white-blonde hair, ice blue eyes, stunning, wearing breeches, boots and an old-fashioned shirt, her husband cradling a baby just like mine was doing with ours) and Circe (gold hair, gold eyes, beautiful, wearing a kickass sarong (a sarong!) sandals, a thin-knit, short-sleeved sweater type thing, really cool jewelry and she and her big husband were cradling babies, his swaddled baby had blonde hair, hers had black).
And after taking them all in, including Lavinia of Lunwyn who wasn’t claimed in a close cinch by a hot goy, it was Circe whose eyes I caught.
And when I did, I smiled and whispered, “Harold says hi.”
Then I watched her remarkable eyes get bright and her big, badass, hide-shirted, hide-pants wearing, sword bearing, knife belt sporting husband pulled her even more protectively closer as she smiled back.
* * *
Valentine
“You are here,” she heard the deep, appealing male voice say, her body turned and her eyes went from the beautiful vista of the glassy dark sea and its tall-masted ships to the beautiful vision of the tall, dark man who formed out of the shadows of the castle beyond him.
“I am here,” she agreed to the obvious.
He stopped on the balcony six feet from her.
“I have waited some time,” he informed her and the witch Valentine Rousseau knew by the tone of his voice he did not like waiting.
“I know you have,” she said softly.
“And I have heard no word,” he told her something else she knew and something else it was clear he did not like.
“Ulfr,” she whispered, not believing she was going to do this but she was going to do this so before she could stop herself from doing it, she said quickly, “I will return your payment.”
He stared at her, his green eyes gleaming even in the dark night illuminated only by the soft lanterns of the city.
Finally, he guessed, “She is dead in your world too.”
Valentine shook her head.
Ulfr’s brows rose. “Then you have not found her?”
“I have found her,” Valentine said carefully and she watched his big, heavenly body grow taut which made it even more heavenly.
“Then, what –?” he started.
“In my world,” she quickly interrupted him, “Ilsa is married.”
It must be said, as she watched his heavenly body grow more taut, Valentine found it a fascinating show.
He remained silent and it wasn’t until he spoke again that she understood he did this to consider his options.
Then he declared the one he’d chosen. “This matters not.”
It was a surprising, dictatorial choice but Valentine couldn’t help but think he was right, it didn’t matter. With her eyes beholding the specimen of man before her, Valentine knew a woman could love a man in her world and be taken from him and offered to this man and she’d eventually forget her other man existed. She knew this even though she knew very little about Apollo Ulfr. What she did know was the depth of his capacity for love and her experience was only three men had its equal and they were all of this parallel world and they were all currently residing in this castle.
Unfortunately for him, the one woman he wanted, it was Valentine’s considered opinion, was the one woman in both their worlds he had no hope of winning.
“It does,” Valentine told him cautiously.
“It does not,” he returned immediately.
“Ulfr –” she started.
“Bring her to me,” he ordered.
“Ulfr, it’s my understanding you are at the cusp of war,” she reminded him.
“This is my concern, not yours.”
Valentine took in a delicate breath.
Then she told him what he needed to know.
“Ulfr, Ilsa of my world is married –”
He cut her off, “You have already told me that and –”
She interrupted him in turn, “To you.”
Ulfr’s body again grew tight and she heard him pull in a sharp breath.
Then he whispered, “To me?”
“To the you of my world,” Valentine explained.
Ulfr made no response.
Valentine continued, “This is not unusual. In fact, it’s highly usual.”
Ulfr’s eyes moved to study the sea but she knew he didn’t see it.
Then they came back to her. “This also matters not.”
Love.
Goddess, but this man could love.
Blinded by it.
“Ulfr –”
“It matters not,” he repeated.
“Ulfr,” Valentine leaned in, “it does. And it does not because she is deeply in love with her husband as you are with your dead wife. It does because the you of my world is not a good man. He is a bad man. A very bad man. Foul. Selfish. Criminal. Cruel. And the reason I had trouble finding her was because she is on the run from him. She will not want you, Ulfr. She will not want anything to do with you. If you bring her here to spend time with you, she’ll –”
“Bring her to me,” he demanded again.
She took a step toward him and, uncharacteristically losing control in defense of a fellow female (or at all), she hissed, “You must allow me to explain. He, the other you, who looks just like you and sounds just like you has not been good to her and when I say that, Ulfr, I mean in every way a man cannot be good to a woman. She fears him and she hates him with an intensity it will be impossible for her to grow to –”
“Bring her to me.”
“Ulfr!” she snapped and he leaned in threateningly, so threateningly, even Valentine reared back.
She might be a witch, a powerful one, but he was a man, a large one and a powerful one and she was human, not immune to being hurt and he was a man who knew what he wanted and would do anything to get it.
“This is my concern, not yours,” he growled. “Bring… her… to me.”
Valentine held his jade eyes.
Then she leaned back.
Then she whispered, “So be it.”
Apollo Ulfr leaned back too, his body relaxed and he stated, “Tomorrow. I will tell you the time and the place.”
Valentine nodded.
Ulfr did not nod back. He turned on his boot and walked away.
It was a good show and, even after that scene, Valentine enjoyed it.
Then, when she lost sight of him, she sighed delicately and turned back to the sea. Moving to the balustrade, she rested her hands on it and felt rather than saw the other presence who had been hiding in the shadows move out of them and come to her side.
And after taking them all in, including Lavinia of Lunwyn who wasn’t claimed in a close cinch by a hot goy, it was Circe whose eyes I caught.
And when I did, I smiled and whispered, “Harold says hi.”
Then I watched her remarkable eyes get bright and her big, badass, hide-shirted, hide-pants wearing, sword bearing, knife belt sporting husband pulled her even more protectively closer as she smiled back.
* * *
Valentine
“You are here,” she heard the deep, appealing male voice say, her body turned and her eyes went from the beautiful vista of the glassy dark sea and its tall-masted ships to the beautiful vision of the tall, dark man who formed out of the shadows of the castle beyond him.
“I am here,” she agreed to the obvious.
He stopped on the balcony six feet from her.
“I have waited some time,” he informed her and the witch Valentine Rousseau knew by the tone of his voice he did not like waiting.
“I know you have,” she said softly.
“And I have heard no word,” he told her something else she knew and something else it was clear he did not like.
“Ulfr,” she whispered, not believing she was going to do this but she was going to do this so before she could stop herself from doing it, she said quickly, “I will return your payment.”
He stared at her, his green eyes gleaming even in the dark night illuminated only by the soft lanterns of the city.
Finally, he guessed, “She is dead in your world too.”
Valentine shook her head.
Ulfr’s brows rose. “Then you have not found her?”
“I have found her,” Valentine said carefully and she watched his big, heavenly body grow taut which made it even more heavenly.
“Then, what –?” he started.
“In my world,” she quickly interrupted him, “Ilsa is married.”
It must be said, as she watched his heavenly body grow more taut, Valentine found it a fascinating show.
He remained silent and it wasn’t until he spoke again that she understood he did this to consider his options.
Then he declared the one he’d chosen. “This matters not.”
It was a surprising, dictatorial choice but Valentine couldn’t help but think he was right, it didn’t matter. With her eyes beholding the specimen of man before her, Valentine knew a woman could love a man in her world and be taken from him and offered to this man and she’d eventually forget her other man existed. She knew this even though she knew very little about Apollo Ulfr. What she did know was the depth of his capacity for love and her experience was only three men had its equal and they were all of this parallel world and they were all currently residing in this castle.
Unfortunately for him, the one woman he wanted, it was Valentine’s considered opinion, was the one woman in both their worlds he had no hope of winning.
“It does,” Valentine told him cautiously.
“It does not,” he returned immediately.
“Ulfr –” she started.
“Bring her to me,” he ordered.
“Ulfr, it’s my understanding you are at the cusp of war,” she reminded him.
“This is my concern, not yours.”
Valentine took in a delicate breath.
Then she told him what he needed to know.
“Ulfr, Ilsa of my world is married –”
He cut her off, “You have already told me that and –”
She interrupted him in turn, “To you.”
Ulfr’s body again grew tight and she heard him pull in a sharp breath.
Then he whispered, “To me?”
“To the you of my world,” Valentine explained.
Ulfr made no response.
Valentine continued, “This is not unusual. In fact, it’s highly usual.”
Ulfr’s eyes moved to study the sea but she knew he didn’t see it.
Then they came back to her. “This also matters not.”
Love.
Goddess, but this man could love.
Blinded by it.
“Ulfr –”
“It matters not,” he repeated.
“Ulfr,” Valentine leaned in, “it does. And it does not because she is deeply in love with her husband as you are with your dead wife. It does because the you of my world is not a good man. He is a bad man. A very bad man. Foul. Selfish. Criminal. Cruel. And the reason I had trouble finding her was because she is on the run from him. She will not want you, Ulfr. She will not want anything to do with you. If you bring her here to spend time with you, she’ll –”
“Bring her to me,” he demanded again.
She took a step toward him and, uncharacteristically losing control in defense of a fellow female (or at all), she hissed, “You must allow me to explain. He, the other you, who looks just like you and sounds just like you has not been good to her and when I say that, Ulfr, I mean in every way a man cannot be good to a woman. She fears him and she hates him with an intensity it will be impossible for her to grow to –”
“Bring her to me.”
“Ulfr!” she snapped and he leaned in threateningly, so threateningly, even Valentine reared back.
She might be a witch, a powerful one, but he was a man, a large one and a powerful one and she was human, not immune to being hurt and he was a man who knew what he wanted and would do anything to get it.
“This is my concern, not yours,” he growled. “Bring… her… to me.”
Valentine held his jade eyes.
Then she leaned back.
Then she whispered, “So be it.”
Apollo Ulfr leaned back too, his body relaxed and he stated, “Tomorrow. I will tell you the time and the place.”
Valentine nodded.
Ulfr did not nod back. He turned on his boot and walked away.
It was a good show and, even after that scene, Valentine enjoyed it.
Then, when she lost sight of him, she sighed delicately and turned back to the sea. Moving to the balustrade, she rested her hands on it and felt rather than saw the other presence who had been hiding in the shadows move out of them and come to her side.
