Everlasting Enchantment (4 page)

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Authors: Kathryne Kennedy

Tags: #Historical Paranormal Romance, #Historical Romance, #Love Story, #Paranormal Romance, #Regency Romance

BOOK: Everlasting Enchantment
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“My eyesight is better in were-form. I shall have to shift to lead you below.”

A hint of worry strained her voice and Gareth couldn’t figure why. Then in a breath she shifted, her clothes transforming into a sleek, black coat of fur, the silver bracelet nothing more than a bump around her front paw. Her tail swished and she half crouched, staring at him with those same amber-gold eyes. He stepped forward as if in a trance, completely unmindful of the size of the cat, for Millicent appeared larger in were-form, her paws bigger now than his own hands.

Gareth slowly held out his fingers as he would have done with any animal, and she sniffed them, her whiskers a gentle tickle on his skin. She seemed to smile at his gesture, and if a panther could laugh, she surely would have. He admired the size of her fangs while he ran his fingers through the soft fur on the top of her head. She purred when he scratched behind her ears.

“You’re magnificent,” he murmured. That shadow of worry in her eyes disappeared to be replaced by arrogant pride.

She twitched her head from beneath his hand and turned, looking back at him from near a black hole at the corner of the slab of stone. Gareth stepped forward and peered inside. A black darker than any night. “We’re going down here to hide?”

She crouched over the edge of the pit and slapped him with her tail. When he stared blankly at her, she snorted and swept the soft end into his hand.

“You don’t mind?”

She rolled her eyes and Gareth shrugged and grasped the end of her tail. Millicent led him below with that guide, and he stumbled along behind her, through what felt like an ever-shrinking tunnel. When he felt as if the weight of the earth would surely crush them both, the passage widened, and shapes began to form to his sight. At first he thought he might be imagining it, but soon it brightened even more until he could see the faint outline of the craggy walls. Some type of glowing plant grew on them to relieve the complete darkness.

Gareth dropped Millicent’s tail. She glanced back at him and then appeared to shrug, as if to say it was his folly. And he did have the devil of a time following her after that. Her black coat melded into the darkness as if a part of it.

But she never allowed more than a few inches between the two of them, leading him around footfalls and sudden chasms. They walked long enough for Gareth to realize that she hadn’t taken him to hide. They appeared to have a destination beyond these tunnels and he felt a bit of excitement stir in his chest. In all his years of living, he’d never been to the Underground, although he’d heard of it, the stories seeming as mythical as others thought the relics to be.

Gareth tried to memorize the direction their path took, but Millicent took so many turns into branching tunnels that he finally gave up. It really didn’t matter if he got lost. He’d wind up back in the relic at dawn.

The outline of her were-form began to glow and he realized that an opening ahead caused that brightening. She stopped at the end of the tunnel and sat back on her haunches, looking over her shoulder at him. He stepped forward and stared.

Fairylights glowed above a cavern so vast he couldn’t see the other side. He’d heard tales of a group of wizards practicing black magic beneath the streets of London, but what spread out before him looked like an entire city. A river branched out into streams, separating the cavern floor into streets, the water looking like a large glistening spiderweb.


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.”

Three

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.

Gareth and Millicent followed, the red-haired giant still at their backs.

“You’re jealous,” whispered Gareth, a note of triumph in his voice.

Drat, the man was persistent. He would soon realize he was only a bargaining piece for the one person she had ever allowed herself to truly care about. Just because she found it difficult to resist his charisma didn’t mean she cared enough for him to
be
jealous. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just thought I should warn you about her first. I owe you that much.”

“Warn me?”

Millicent nodded at Selena’s back. “She lusts after any man.”

“So?”

“She wants more than to share a man’s bed. She wants his blood—which is why the duke did not trust her to steal the relic for him. She’s a shape-shifter, Sir Gareth, and cannot control some of her particular tendencies.”

“A were-vampire bat,” he said. “I know. Verily, it amazes me that you think I didn’t. Perhaps it’s difficult for you to understand how truly long I’ve lived. Besides this underground world of yours, there’s very little I haven’t seen, my lady.”

Millicent didn’t quite know what to say. She’d never met a man like him before. So young looking, and yet so very old inside. “Oh, quit calling me that,” she finally managed.

Selena stopped in front of a paneled door and threw it open with a flourish of fluttering silk.

The room looked remarkably similar to the duke’s study in his mansion aboveground, except it lacked sunshine streaming through the paned windows and the fresh flowers his housekeeper managed to fit into every nook and cranny. Millicent doubted anyone above even knew about his residence in the Underground.

The Duke of Ghoulston had been pacing in front of the roaring fireplace and turned eagerly as they entered the room. His beady eyes studied their group for a moment, lingering on Sir Gareth with a frown. Then he quickly focused on Millicent. “Did you get it?”

She held up her arm, the moonstone reflecting the fire’s flames within its depths.

He rubbed his hands together, the dry, raspy sound enough to make her shiver. “Jolly good. I won’t ask if you had any trouble. I can see you did by the condition of the very expensive dress I loaned you.”

Millicent could give a bloody farthing about his expenses. “I want to see Nell.”

Selena hissed a laugh and glided across the room to an ornate cabinet, pouring herself a decanter of red wine and sipping it while she undressed Sir Gareth with her eyes.

The duke flopped into a padded wing chair, his belly vibrating with the aftershock. “Not quite yet. First you give me the relic… and explain why the hell you brought this man to my home.”

Millicent glanced at Gareth. He looked entirely unconcerned by the duke’s sinister tone, examining him as if the other man were an insect he seriously considered squashing.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” she told him. Sir Gareth raised those blond brows, a slight quirk to his lips. His hair glowed a shade of gold in the firelight and he looked so boyishly handsome she wanted to scream at him. Instead, she lowered her voice. “Please. For my sake.”

He gave her a slight bow, with barely a nod of his head.

Selena choked on her wine, as if stunned that the knight followed Millicent’s bidding.

The duke narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “Explain him, Millicent. Now.” She’d forgotten the giant had followed them into the room until the duke looked pointedly over her shoulder at the guard, who took a warning step closer to her.

“He’s part of what you wanted. He’s—”

The knight stepped forward. “Sir Gareth Solimere, a knight of the Round Table and, at this moment, my lady’s protector.”

The duke ignored Gareth and kept his steely gaze fastened on Millicent.

“He belongs to the relic,” she explained. “Well, he came out of it anyway. It’s what all the society ladies have been gossiping about. Not the relic itself, but the man who has been trapped inside.”

This time the duke gave Gareth his full attention. “So, you’re not a madman. By your clothing, I assume you’ve been trapped inside the relic since the Middle Ages?”

Gareth planted his legs and crossed his arms over the red dragon emblazoned on his tunic. “As you see.”

Millicent winced at his aggressive posture and hurriedly spoke. “He can come out only from midnight to dawn. He’ll be gone again in”—she glanced over at the gilded French clock on the mantel—“a few hours.”

The duke leaned back, steepling his fingers beneath his nose. “Interesting. What else have you managed to find out about the relic? What magic does it possess?”

“That’s not our deal,” said Millicent. “I bring you the relic and you hand over Nell. As simple as that.”

“Life is never simple, my dear. But never mind. I won’t let it be said that the Duke of Ghoulston does not honor his bargains. Otherwise my minions won’t think I mean what I say.” He glanced briefly at Selena, who slammed her glass of port down on the table, sloshing red over her fingers. The duke grinned. “Hand over the relic, and you can have your Nell and go.”

Millicent took a deep breath. “Um, there’s just a little problem.”

The duke’s relaxed manner vanished and he stared at the silver band on her wrist like a hound dog would stare at his favorite bone. “I don’t like problems.”

“It’s only a temporary one,” Millicent hastened to assure him, hating the sound of her conciliatory tone. If she hadn’t been so unwise as to care for another, she wouldn’t be in the position of having to bargain with a slug like Ghoulston. She would gladly shift to cat and kill him on the spot. “I can’t remove the relic until dawn.”

“Why not?”

Despite her earlier words, Millicent decided it would be wise to give the duke enough information to pacify him. “It tightens around the wrist of whomever it chooses.”

The duke narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “But you’re immune to magic, my dear.”

“The spell inside the metal doesn’t affect me directly. And the silver is as real as you or I. Believe me, it won’t come loose until Sir Gareth is swallowed back inside. Lady Chatterly said he won’t appear to the same woman twice, and that’s why it’s been passed along to other ladies.”

The duke rose and faced Gareth. “I’ve heard rumors that our properly raised women have been introduced to, shall we say, the pleasures of the flesh. I assume we have you to thank for their ruination?”

Gareth bowed with a flourish of his arm. “Guilty, as charged.”

Millicent could see the anger simmering in the duke’s eyes and stepped closer to the knight, speaking rapidly. “It’s not entirely his fault. You see, he was foretold of a woman who can free him of his curse. And he knows only what she feels like, so he—”

“Gets them naked, yes, I follow.” The duke sidestepped Millicent and began to walk a circle around Sir Gareth. “Tell me, Sir Knight, does your skill at seduction come naturally, or is it enhanced by the power of the relic?” Gareth looked down his nose at the duke and tightened his lips. “Ah, well. Perhaps you will tell me why you were trapped in the relic in the first place?”

Only the harsh breathing of the two men disturbed the silence that fell over the room.

“I see,” said Ghoulston, dispersing his anger with a sigh. “I think when the relic is in my possession you will be more amenable to answering my questions. You see, I desire your friendship, Sir Knight. Surely that’s not too much to ask?”

Gareth raised a skeptical brow and the duke let out a hearty laugh, slapping him on the shoulder. “Hmph. You feel real enough. Not an illusion then. Come now, man. We have a lot in common, you and I.” He chuckled all the way back to his wing chair, sitting down with a sigh of self-satisfaction. “I have been imprisoned as well, don’t you know? In a prison of obscurity and disrespect. I mean to change all of that with my scientific studies of magic.”

Millicent had cringed when the duke slapped Gareth, but the knight stood frozen. She wondered where he had learned such iron self-control and admired him for it. And felt a kernel of guilt. She knew the duke’s methods. First he would offer friendship, and when that didn’t work, he’d try blackmail. If he couldn’t find that leverage… well, she’d heard rumors of what the black wizard could do.

And then she shook herself. Hadn’t she vowed never to allow herself to be vulnerable again by caring for another? And besides feeling a bit of gratitude for Gareth’s skills in beating the other weres who’d sought to take the relic from her, she didn’t care for him a whit. She really didn’t even know him.

“Well, my dear Millicent,” said the duke, “it seems that you will be my guest until the morrow. Perhaps you can show her to the red room, Selena?”

“But this is nonsense,” replied Selena. She stepped forward, purposely brushing Gareth’s shoulder as she glided past him. “You don’t believe any of this, do you, my lord?”

She pointed at Millicent with a sweeping gesture that caused her pelerine to flutter like wings. “Just look at her! Do you really think the relic would choose Millicent Pantere? That this passionate knight would bind himself to such an unwilling creature?”

The duke settled deeper into his chair. “Ah, my sweet Selena. You are an endless source of entertainment.”

She gave him a wide smile, her needle-sharp fangs glinting in the firelight. Then spun her silks again, grabbed Millicent’s arm, and caressed the silver bracelet. “It’s wasted on her.”

Sir Gareth, who had stood as still as a stone, twitched when the were-bat touched Millicent.

Selena looked up at him and Millicent could smell the musky scent of the woman’s lust for the knight.

“Why must we wait another minute?” she continued, twisting the metal and Millicent’s skin along with it. “Look, it’s loose enough to remove. It requires only a bit of pressure.”

“Unhand her,” said Gareth, his voice deep and low.

Selena dug her fingers beneath the silver band, gouging Millicent’s skin with her sharp nails, and yanked as hard as she could.

Millicent fought to keep the growl from her voice, and kept her tone even. “I’ve already tried to get it off, Selena. It won’t go past the bones of my hand.”

The other shape-shifter continued to tug and Millicent had to resist the impulse to yank back and send the smaller woman flying across the room.

“Then try,” panted Selena, “to squeeze the bones of your hand together. Or perhaps we should just cut off your wrist.”

The duke slapped his knee and howled with laughter.

Gareth spun and slammed the heel of his palm up into the guard’s chin. The red-haired giant managed a grunt of pain before his eyes rolled back in his head. The knight removed the two pistols from the other man’s belt as the guard fell, spun again, and leveled them at the duke’s laughing face.

“Unhand her,” he said again.

Selena froze, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

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