Midnight Soul (3 page)

“In with?”

“Who means something to you. Your guy. Your
man,” he stated.

I looked to the fire again, feeling my face
freeze.

The instant I did, he bit off, “
Fuck
.”
There was a slight pause before, “Babe…Franka, Tor told me about
the shit that went down…fuck.” I felt strong fingers curl around my
wrist, a wrist I was resting on the arm of the chair, before he
finished, “That was stupid. I’m so sorry.”

With a delicate twist, I freed myself from
his touch, lifted my wineglass to my lips, and before I took a sip
I murmured, “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

This odd word made my gaze move back to
him.

“I beg your pardon?” I snapped.

“Bullshit,” he repeated.

“I don’t understand this word.”

Though I had a feeling I did.

There was no smile on his face. No humor in
his eyes. He was regarding me closely again, but this time I was
prepared and didn’t shift in my seat.

“You’re full of it,” he explained. “You’re
not giving me the entire truth. You’re saying something to get past
something you don’t want to be talking about.”

“And if I did this, considering what we both
know I’m moving us past, it’s customary to allow the awkward moment
to
pass
.”

He leaned slightly toward me. “You’re in here
all alone, drinkin’ wine by yourself, lookin’ like the world just
ended. And I get why you’d feel that way. I don’t understand, when
all the others are so tight, why you aren’t tight with them. But
that’s not my business. All I know is, you put your ass on the line
today to save four women’s lives and the life of every being in
this universe. It took courage to do that, babe. You suffered a big
loss losing your man and I’m sorry for that. But at least for
tonight you should be proud of what you did for your country, for
four good women and the men who love them, for the memory of the
man you lost. It’s time to celebrate. The good side won and
you
,” he pointed a finger at me (insufferably
rude
!),
“were a part of that.”

Again, on the tip of my tongue, words hovered
to share precisely, in a calculated way, how I knew he had
celebrated with Circe.

Those words did not drop off my tongue.

They vanished completely as I simply turned
my attention back to the fire.

“And that kinda situation does not say wine,”
he carried on. “It says whiskey, vodka, or better yet,
tequila.”

I could not argue with that (regardless of
the fact I had no idea what tequila was).

“To that, I heartily agree,” I declared,
deigning again to glance at him and wishing I hadn’t, for his smile
had returned, making me further wish I could snatch my words
back.

“I’ll go find something,” he announced,
putting his hands to the arms of the chair in order to heft his big
frame out of it, and I felt my brows draw together as, once he was
up, it seemed he was moving toward the door.

“You simply have to pull the cord and demand
it of a servant,” I explained.

He was now standing, staring down at me,
appearing bemused.

By the powers of Adele, if she reigned in his
realm, she gave him more than his fair share of
everything
.

He even looked delectable bemused!

I really had to leave as quickly as I could
without giving anything away.

“Uh…what?” he asked.

I gestured indolently with a hand to the cord
in the corner of the room. “Pull the cord. A bell sounds…” I didn’t
have the information of where it sounded as I didn’t concern myself
with such matters, and continued with, “somewhere. A servant comes.
We tell him we want whiskey. He brings it.”

His lips quirked.

I drew in an annoyed breath for that was
delectable too.

“Right,” he muttered and began to stride
toward the cord.

I twisted in my chair and called to his back,
“When they arrive, share with them more fuel needs to be added to
the fire.”

He stopped and turned back to me while I was
speaking.

When I was done, he looked to the fire and
then back to me.

“Babe, there’s a pile of logs right there,”
he stated.

“Indeed, there are,” I agreed, though I
hadn’t concerned myself with that matter either and had no idea if
he spoke truth.

“So I can put more
fuel
on the
fire.”

By Adele, he again looked amused.

I needed to find a way to exit this situation
with all due haste.

“If you wish to dirty your hands…” I left it
at that but added a slight shrug.

He shook his head, his mouth again quirking,
and he turned back to the cord.

Fine.

He would order whisky.

I would imbibe a bit (or perhaps more than a
bit). Then I’d find a way to purloin the extra bottle of wine and
the glass and remove myself to my rooms.

This was my plan.

As Franka Drakkar of the House of Drakkar, I
was very good with plans, making them and executing them to their
fullest.

However, that night, not for the first time,
I would not succeed.

* * * * *

“You jest,” I declared.

I was leaning across the arm of my chair
(rather inelegantly) toward Noctorno, who was lounged (rather
negligently) in his chair, whiskey in hand, dancing, startling
light-blue eyes on me.

“Nope,” he stated.

“Nope” I had learned through the fullness of
our discourse these past hours in his world meant “no.”

Incidentally, we’d had a good deal of
whiskey.

We’d also finished all the wine.

And I was sure I was likely to lament how
deep in my cups I was at that present juncture.

I just didn’t have it in me to care.

“You can speak to any being you want in the
entirety of your universe, as long as you have this…
number
you describe? By just entering it into a gadget and putting it to
your ear?” I asked.

“Yep,” he replied. “And as long as they also
have a phone.”

“Yep” I’d learned meant “yes.”

So did “Yup,” but we had that in my world
too.

I examined his face.

He looked relaxed and amused.

He did not look as if he was dissembling.

Even so, he
had
to be dissembling.

Therefore, I moved back an inch on my
accusation. “You lie.”

He shook his head, leaning forward and
reaching behind him, stating, “Nope.”

He then pulled out a thin, rectangular piece
of what looked like metal and glass. It had rounded edges. It was
simple but somehow exceptionally handsome.

He leaned toward me, holding this thing my
way, and as I watched the little window illuminated, showing a
variety of tiny pictures on it, all lined up precisely in rows, up
and down.

“By the gods,” I whispered, reaching toward
it but stopping, struck immobile by the fantastical.

“Yep,” he said, moving his thumb on the
window. A white screen came up with a listing of text. “That’s
email. You can send mail to anyone too, if you have their address.
And it gets to them in a couple of minutes. Of course I can’t do
that now, seeing as I’m
way
outside service. But if I
wasn’t, I could call ’em, mail ’em, text ’em.”

I turned my gaze from his gadget to his
face.

“Text them?”

“Type in a message,” he said, my eyes dropped
back to his contraption as his thumb moved over it. “Hit send, it
goes to someone else’s phone, bings, they get the message within
minutes. Seconds even.”

“That’s
extraordinary
,” I breathed,
reaching out yet again but stopping before I touched the little box
of magic.

“You can take it, Franka. It won’t bite
you.”

Laughter laced his words and I again looked
at his handsome face.

I didn’t take his gadget.

I asked, “Is it magic?”

“We don’t have magic in our world like you
do.”

I sat back in shock. “How bizarre.”

“We do,” he went on to clarify. “It just
isn’t
out
. As in, practiced openly.”

He could not be serious.

“That’s very dangerous,” I stated primly
(perhaps in order to hide I also did it uncomfortably).

“It probably fuckin’ is,” he muttered.

“You should do something about that,” I
informed him with authority. “It’s my understanding you’re in the
city guard. You should speak to your constable. Perhaps he can
speak to your…whatever title your ruler bears. They can surely do
something about that. And as you can imagine with your activities
here, it’s advisable.”

He shook his head. “If the president went on
record making folks come forward to register that they’re witches
and sorcerers…or whatever…he’d be removed from office in about
twenty-four hours.”

“That’s ludicrous.”

A small grin flirted at his lips as he shook
his head again. “It’s the truth.”

“Odd,” I murmured, looking back to
his…
phone
.

He shook it side to side in a coaxing way.
“Take it, babe. You can’t hurt it. It can’t hurt you. There’s games
on it if you want me to show you how they work.”

I again caught his eyes. “Games?”

This time, he nodded. “Solitaire. Tetris.
Trivia Crack. Think there might be Fruit Ninja on there still.”

“Fruit…
ninja
?” I asked the question
like I was trying out the words.

He simply chuckled at that, but he did it in
a way I knew he was being gracious for he appeared to be fighting
roaring with laughter.

I ignored this and told him, “I don’t know
these games.”

He again smiled. “That would be me showin’
you how they work.”

I took in his smile.

I looked in his eyes.

There was amusement there (as there seemed to
be since he entered the room, something I’d never encountered in my
life, such good humor).

There was also intelligence, a great deal
that could not be hidden even if, for some reason, he were to wish
to try.

And there was kindness, so much, there was
more than enough to exploit should one have that in mind.

But there was no guile.

Even Antoine had an agenda when it came to
me. To anyone. That was how one lived in my world. Not just my
universe, the world I lived in due to the status I carried.

Noctorno Hawthorne of the world of magical
gadgets had none.

And staring in his eyes, I felt a sensation
gathering behind mine I hadn’t felt since I was a young child.

“You should not be kind to me,” I
whispered.

His expression changed.

It did not go wary.

It warmed with a gentleness that made it feel
my insides were unravelling.

“Franka,” he whispered back.

“You should not be kind to me,” I
repeated.

“Babe—”

“I’ve done terrible things.”

He said nothing, just stared right into my
eyes, unafraid, without judgement, holding my gaze steady.

“I love my frosted country,” the whiskey (or
the wine) made me whisper. “They don’t think so. They don’t know. I
can’t…” I shook my head, enough of my faculties still intact not to
give him that. “I don’t let that be known. I’ve traveled the
Northlands extensively. But there’s nothing like the air in Lunwyn.
I prefer it in the many months it’s covered in snow. I prefer the
chill. I prefer the cold air carving through your innards, washing
them clean.”

Something flickered in his gaze.

Curiosity.

“Franka—”

“I would do nothing…
nothing
…to betray
my country.” My voice dropped beyond a whisper to nearly nothing.
“But for him.”

“I get it.”

I shook my head. “You don’t.” I lifted a hand
weakly then dropped it in my lap. “They don’t.”

I was referring to Queen Aurora. Frey and his
Finnie. King Lahn and his Circe. Prince Noctorno and his Cora.
Apollo and his Madeleine. The green witch Valentine. Lavinia.

Everybody.

“They get it,” he returned.

“No, they don’t.”

“They get it, sweetheart. You don’t think if
those men had the same choice as you, their women taken, tortured,
living in the pits of hell every day for weeks, fucking
months
…or those women had that choice with their men…they
wouldn’t make the same choice as you?”

“I shared this exact sentiment with them and
they—”

He leaned deeply across the seat over the
table that separated us, very close to me, and his voice was the
lash of a whip when he interrupted me to state, “
Lied
.”

He did not move away as he continued, and
when he did his voice was no less strong.

“They fuckin’ lied, Franka. I know those are
good men who have done remarkable things for their countries. I
also know they wouldn’t hesitate to do anything in their power to
keep their women safe and free from harm. So, since they weren’t in
your position, they can say whatever the fuck they wanna say. But
today, when Cora and Circe and Maddie and Finnie were taken, if
they weren’t made safe as quickly as they were, if you think for
one fuckin’ second each one of those men wouldn’t make a deal with
the goddamned devil to make that so, you…are…
wrong
.”

He jerked a finger at his chest and didn’t
cease talking.

“I know, ’cause I’m a man like that. And if I
had a woman I loved like those men love their women, I’d do it and
I wouldn’t fuckin’
blink
.”

That sensation behind my eyes became stronger
as I asked, “You would?”

“Fuck yes,” he stated inflexibly. “And I
wouldn’t even blink.”

It had started, and for the first time in
decades I could stop the flow of words coming out of my mouth.

“I’m a traitor,” I admitted.

“You were and you aren’t the first to make
the decision you made for someone you loved. Worse has happened
when people made that same decision. And what you did, in the end,
no one got hurt. But today, even if that’s the case, you made up
for it. Those bitches could have cut you down with a snap.” He
lifted his hand and made that noise with his fingers, the sound so
loud I jumped. “You knew it. You still walked in there. I know
vengeance, I get the need for that. I know that’s what pushed you
to make the decision you made. But there was more. Loyalty. To the
country you think you betrayed, to your family, ’cause I know you
and Frey are blood. I get with the way he looks at you, the others
do, that there’s no love lost and I don’t give a fuck why. You
changed the course of history, baby, and every citizen of this
nation should be grateful.”