Spellbound Falls [5] For the Love of Magic (15 page)

Rana lifted onto her toes to lean over the rail. “Did you happen to stop by the kitchen and steal some of Michelin’s bread before you left?”

“At great risk to life and limb,” he said with a chuckle as he set down the cheese and pulled a cotton bread sack out of the dry bag. “Our staff has been eating better than we have.” He glanced up—his gaze lingering on her hips and even longer on her bosom before lifting to her face—and chuckled again. “I imagine you and I alone are keeping the Drunken Moose solvent.”

Rana dropped to her heels with a gasp. “You brought back healthy foods because you think I’m getting fat.”

“What? No.” He grabbed the cheese and held it up with the bread. “All of this has been your diet for centuries.”

She leaned over the rail and snatched the two items out of his hand before he could pull them away. “Go find your own island to nap behind. This one is taken.”

“Ah, wife,” he said with a laugh as he picked up the sack of figs and gently tossed it onto her deck, “but you do please—”

What felt like a solid wall of wind suddenly caught the sails of both vessels, forcing Titus to let go of her boat in order to keep the light catamaran from capsizing, and making Rana scramble after the line of her flapping mainsail.

“Leviathan!” Titus roared over the howl of the wind, the urgency in his voice making Rana stop in mid-hoist. “Come to me now!”

She started to glance around to see what had him worried, but instead lunged toward the mast when the sea began to froth like a cauldron of boiling water, making the sloop heave wildly as bursting bubbles filled the air with a musty smell she couldn’t identify. Clinging to the mast, she finally looked at where Titus was looking to see dark, roiling thunderclouds sweeping toward them from the south.

“Rana! Do
not
lash yourself to the mast!” her husband shouted as a driving rain engulfed them—her last sight being of Titus standing on his trampoline as he studied the churning water beneath him and then roared Leviathan’s name again.

“No magic!” Rana yelled. “Titus! Don’t use your magic on me!”

Something rammed the sloop with enough force to make her fall to her knees, and she stayed kneeling on the wildly heaving deck as she continued to hug the mast, sighing in relief that Leviathan was here—only to scream when she realized the dark shadow rising out of the frothing water was
not
a whale.

Her second scream was drowned out by a loud crack followed by the sound of wood splintering, and Rana pushed away from the vibrating mast just as the top half of it crashed to the deck and trapped her in a tangle of ropes and rain-soaked canvas.

“I have you,” Titus said as she felt his strong hands encircle her. “Close your eyes, little one.”

“No,” Rana rushed out, clasping his face just as she felt the sloop begin to tilt. “Please, Titus, you can’t use your magic on me.”

His arms tightened around her. “I must!”

“No. You can’t. It will—” There was a loud groan of splintering wood and the sloop gave another violent shudder. The deck tilted sharply, the shifting mast and sail dragging them both into the frigid water. Titus pulled her even deeper to get away from the snare of ropes and canvas, and Rana thought her lungs would burst before he suddenly shot upward.

“You’ll drown if I don’t,” he snapped the moment they surfaced into the churning waves and driving rain. “Or freeze to death first!”

“No magic!” she cried again when she felt him tensing in preparation. “It might kill our baby.”

His grip on her momentarily slackened before he growled a curse and suddenly hauled her back underwater just as she heard a deep groan and felt something brush against her. The sloop was sinking, she realized, clinging to Titus as he kicked away before it sucked them down with it. He pushed her to the surface again then held her steady in the churning waves as she gasped and sputtered trying to catch her breath—until she stopped breathing altogether when she realized they’d surfaced right in the middle of a fierce battle.

“No, don’t look,” he said roughly, pressing her face against his shoulder as he turned and started swimming away.

Although the storm was making it nearly as dark as night, the flashes of lightning had allowed her to catch a glimpse of the huge shadow she’d seen earlier, which now appeared to be fending off repeated attacks from what she
had
recognized were several demons. Rana kept her eyes closed as her husband’s powerful legs carried them away from the horrible battle, but she couldn’t close her ears to the blood-curdling screams of the demons and the gut-wrenching roars coming from the shadow.

Titus stopped swimming and pressed his mouth to her cheek. “You’re not going to make it to shore,” he said, his lips feeling like burning embers against her cold skin. “I need to get you to safety.”

“I-I can make it,” she whispered, shivering uncontrollably. “P-Please don’t—”

“I will not lose you!” he growled as she felt the telltale sign of him tensing.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “You don’t n-need the magic, Titus. You’re powerful enough t-to save me and our child without it.”

His grip tightened as he hesitated for several pounding heartbeats before he turned with another curse and started swimming again. Too lethargic to cling to him anymore, Rana closed her eyes on a shiver, knowing she couldn’t be in safer hands. She did give a weak scream when something bumped her leg, however, and tried to kick it away.

“That was Leviathan,” Titus said, shifting his hold on her without slowing. “He’s guiding us to the closest land.”

“K-Kit?”

“The orcas are guarding our backs. Conserve your strength.”

She could still hear the screams of the demons and terrified roars of whatever they were fighting mixed with nearly continuous thunder and the howling wind, but she could tell Titus was quickly putting distance between them and the battle.

Was the shadow another new god or goddess trying to come forth like the one that had run into Peg’s truck last week? Had the demons been sent to stop this one before it fully manifested? Because she couldn’t imagine many of the established gods would be too overjoyed to have new competition.

Unlike her husband, apparently.

She really didn’t know why Titus seemed unconcerned about what the colonists were doing. Even though he’d sent Nicholas and Dante to spy on them, she suspected that was more to see if the other gods intended to interfere rather than become involved himself. Had Dante told Titus and Maximilian what Macie had told her, which was that the colony was trying to use the magic for the good of mankind?

She smiled, thinking she wouldn’t mind having another god in their corner, only to gasp when Titus suddenly stood up and swept her into his arms.

And then she flinched when he muttered another curse and scaled the rocky shoreline. “You’ve stopped shivering,” he said roughly, running into the forest.

She was pretty sure that should alarm her, but she really couldn’t remember why. Because honestly? She didn’t feel cold anymore. She tried to tell him that she actually felt wonderful, but her voice didn’t seem to want to work. So she tried patting his shoulder to let him know how proud she was of him for saving her without the magic, except her arm kept flapping down his back like it belonged on a ragdoll. And then she felt herself falling, but quickly realized he was setting her down on soggy moss, just before she was engulfed in an equally wet but familiar-smelling jacket that covered even her head from the driving rain.

“I’ll be back shortly,” her life-saving husband said as he rolled her onto her side, folded her knees up to her chest, and tucked the jacket around her. “Don’t move.”

She probably should promise she wouldn’t move an inch, but she was too busy forming an apology for throwing that peach pit at him, considering how he had gallantly saved her life. Yeah, just as soon as he got back, she would tell him what a brave and powerful husband he was even
without
the magic.

• • •

Titus couldn’t remember ever being so scared in his life. No, that wasn’t true; he had been all but paralyzed with fear when Rana had lain dying in their bed after giving birth to Carolina. He had, in fact, threatened Providence that he would personally destroy every damn last Tree of Life if he lost her.

“Leviathan!” he shouted when he reached the water, squinting into the driving rain at the battle still going on—not that he had any trouble hearing it. He walked into the waves up to his waist. “Kitalanta! Come!”

The old whale surfaced nearby. “Bring me my boat,” Titus instructed. “Kit,” he said the moment the orca appeared, “bring one of your warriors to land and set the others on patrol just offshore.”

His orders given, Titus tensed against the assault he knew was coming and began pulling the energy of the inland sea into his body, then stretched his hands to the wind-whipped waves and called forth the great whites. “Send those demon bastards scurrying for their lives,” he instructed when a dozen dorsal fins began circling, one of the larger sharks coming close enough to brush his leg. “And leave the new entity untouched. By the gods, Leviathan!” he shouted when he saw his capsized catamaran floundering in the waves. “Hurry the hell up before your queen dies!”

Titus glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Rana, but decided he didn’t dare summon more of the energy for fear of killing her himself. Even whole and hearty, her mortal body could withstand only small doses of the magic.

The catamaran slammed onto the rocks, shattering one of the pontoons and snapping the mast like a twig. He waded over and ripped off the mainsail and ropes, tore the dry bag off the twisted trampoline, then took off the jib.

“Leviathan!” he called out after climbing to shore with the gear balled up in his arms. “Go alert Maximilian and Nicholas to what is going on.” He hesitated, then said, “Tell them we are safe, but do not tell them where we are. I will let you know when we’re ready to go home. Assuming we go home at all,” he muttered as he turned and ran back into the forest.

For in truth, if his wife did not leave here alive, neither would he.

Rana woke to the sound of gentle rain hitting some sort of material and the feel of heat from a crackling fire on her face, but it was the strong, steady heartbeat inside the warm, naked chest she was lying on that made her sigh in relief that she was alive and well and exactly where she belonged.

She assumed her sigh is what made the arms around her tighten, and she in turn melted into her husband’s life-saving embrace. “I love you,” she said without opening her eyes, even as she wondered why she sounded hoarse. Oh, that’s right; she’d nearly drowned. “I love you,” she repeated a bit louder when he didn’t respond, thinking he might not have heard her.

She sighed again when he stopped her from tilting her head to look at him, and instead smiled at the brightly burning fire when she realized he was angry. Not at her directly, but rather at her almost dying. Yes, her big strong magical husband didn’t like being reminded he was in love with a mortal woman, especially one who couldn’t even travel through time with him without throwing up. Add to that the shock of having just learned he was going to be a father again, and . . . well, she really hadn’t intended to shout her news at him, especially not in the middle of a horrible battle and definitely not while he was busy saving her life.

Come to think of it, she was rather angry herself. Those vile demons had ruined her plan to cook Titus a wonderful meal in her new home, after which they would stroll hand-in-hand down to her beachfront and sit in front of a wonderful bonfire, where she would gently tell him that their deep and abiding love had created another wonderful new life. Only she hadn’t intended for that to happen for two or three months, because she’d wanted a little more time
not
being smothered by his concern and treated like an invalid, considering how badly he’d been fussing over her ever since she had nearly died giving birth to Carolina.

Titus was still the handsome, charming, and tender man she’d married forty years ago, and she loved him dearly, but she was also very much aware to what lengths he would go in order to protect her. For hadn’t he made a pact with his enemies to keep Carolina safe until she could marry an intelligent mortal brave enough to love her? And hadn’t he shown no mercy to Henry’s uncles when they had tried to kill Maximilian in order to keep control of their magical nephew? But like all the men in her family, Rana also felt honor-bound to ensure mankind’s continued existence, which could be in jeopardy if her husband decided to . . . well, she really didn’t want to think about what he might do to keep her safe. Oh, yeah; her mother had been right about what sort of man her love would make Titus, and the responsibility that came with
his
loving
her
could at times be overwhelming.

She felt his lips touch her hair. “How did this happen?” he quietly asked.

Knowing he wasn’t talking about the storm, Rana propped her chin on her hands on his chest and smiled into his unreadable eyes. “I believe in this century they call it make-up sex.”

“I’ve always gone to great lengths to ensure you never got pregnant again.”

“Yes. But sometimes you get . . . distracted by my response to you.”

“Do you know how far along you are?”

“Eight or nine weeks.”

“Have you seen Maude?”

“No. But she’s not blind and suspects I’m with child.”

His eyes narrowed, though they remained unreadable. “Then you’re not really certain. You’re of an age,” he continued, his embrace tightening when she tried to sit up, “that you may have merely reached the end of your childbearing years.”

“I am in the
prime
of my life. And,” she snapped when she saw a hint of a smile, “I know my own body.”

He pulled her coiled fingers out of his chest hair and trapped her hands against his sides, then cupped her head back to him. “What did you hope to accomplish by leaving me?”

“This,” she said in exasperation, wiggling her trapped hands. “I wanted a few months of experiencing what it’s like to take care of myself for once, before you became even more overprotective.”

“Forgive me. I hadn’t realized my love for you has been such a burden.”

She tried to look at him, only to sigh again when he wouldn’t let her. “I went from my father’s care to yours, Titus—from being a dutiful daughter to being a dutiful wife. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change anything. Well,” she said brightly, hoping to lighten his mood, “I might have made you work a little harder to catch me.”

“As it was, you were one day away from succeeding.”

She popped her head up before he could stop her. “You were going to give up on me? What stopped you?”

“Remember that heart-shaped pebble I pressed into your hand when I bumped into you at the market? Well,” he said when she nodded, “I knew I had you when I saw you pull it from your bodice when you were hanging clothes on the line.”

“You were hiding in the woods
spying
on me?”

Apparently deciding that was a rhetorical question, he merely arched a brow. Rana laid her head on his chest and stared into the fire just beyond the colorful sail he’d stretched between two trees like a tent. She could see all their clothes hanging on branches under the sail to dry, and guessed he must have had the heavy flannel shirt she was wearing in his dry bag.

“We can hold off sailing home until after Carolina has her baby,” she said when he remained silent, fighting to keep her sorrow out of her voice. “Or maybe a few weeks after, so we can have some time with our new grandchild? I . . . I’m not that far along.”

She closed her eyes when he still didn’t respond, and fought back tears when he covered her head with his big masculine hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek. She was going to miss the births of Olivia’s and Peg’s and Julia’s babies, as well as Henry’s eleventh birthday and Sophie’s and Ella’s. And knowing Titus, he wouldn’t let her travel again until their child was several months old, which would be a whole friggin’
year
from now.

Yes. Well. He could stay silent until the cows came home, for all she cared. Having known that the moment he learned she was pregnant he would hustle her back to Atlantis, she didn’t feel the least bit guilty for scheming to spend the summer here.

He’d really almost given up courting her?

Titus slowly sat up, sitting her up with him, and Rana disguised wiping her eyes by making a production of tugging the oversize shirt down over her legs. He lifted her off his lap and set her on what she realized was his jib sail, then stood up—utterly and magnificently naked—and walked to the fire and began feeding it branches that he must have gathered . . . sometime.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, turning, still crouched, to look at her.

She toyed with a button on the shirt. “Not really.” She looked toward where she thought Bottomless was, uncertain because Titus had apparently wanted to make camp far from the sea. “Do you know if the demons . . . if they won?”

“I only know they found themselves battling an army of great whites shortly after we reached shore.” He shrugged. “I have no idea if the new entity survived.”

Nor did he particularly care, judging by his tone. “Did you send Kitalanta or Leviathan to tell Maximilian what happened? We should be rescued shortly, shouldn’t we?”

Titus stood up, pulled his clothes off the branches, and started dressing. “Kit and one of his pod mates are patrolling nearby and occasionally bringing us firewood, so don’t be alarmed if you hear a noise or they suddenly appear.”

“So you sent Leviathan to Nova Mare, then?” she repeated when she realized he hadn’t answered her question about being rescued.

Titus pulled on his pants. “He’s gone to report to Maximilian and Nicholas what happened and that we are safe, but I instructed him not to tell anyone where we are.”

“You . . . why would you do that?”

He slipped on his shirt. “Because I wish to spend some time alone with my wife,” he said, finally turning to her—his eyes unreadable again. “And knowing how much you enjoy camping, I’ve decided we’ll walk back.” He shrugged. “It should take only a few days.”

He was serious. And why wasn’t she surprised he hadn’t asked if
she
wanted to walk back? Rana glanced at the surrounding woods again, not that she could see very far, since the sun had obviously set, and worried she had slept quite a long time. Oh, yeah, she must have really, really scared him. “Are we on the western shore?” she asked, knowing there was nothing but wilderness on the east side of Bottomless.

“We’re on the eastern shore.” He sat down and began dressing his feet. “My guess is we’re about thirty or thirty-five miles from Duncan’s house.”

“And you want to walk there,” she stated rather than questioned.

He stopped lacing his boot and smiled at her, although she couldn’t help but notice it didn’t reach his eyes. “A mere stroll for a woman in the prime of her life.”

Oh, yeah, the man was royally pissed. Only she was beginning to worry he was actually angry at
her
rather than the fact that she’d nearly drowned. And he expected them to spend the next few days
strolling
through the wilderness together?

“Are you forgetting I’m with child?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, standing up.

“What are we going to eat? Or wear? You expect me to live in the same clothes for several days?”

“You have before.”

“When I was nineteen,” she snapped. “And we didn’t have a
choice
.”

“You don’t have a choice now, wife.” He pulled her socks off a branch and tossed them onto her lap. “You should cover your feet to keep from getting chilled again. But don’t bother dressing,” he said as he turned away, “because I’ll just have to undress you again when I get back.”

And with that parting shot, he disappeared into the darkness.

Rana picked up the socks and started to throw them after him, but then dropped her hands to her legs. She had
known
he’d be angry when he learned why she’d left him, so she couldn’t very well be angry back at him, could she? Because honestly? If their roles were reversed and he’d kept that kind of secret from her, she probably wouldn’t be acting half as civilized as he was.

She slipped on her socks, then lay down on the sail and curled up inside the thick fleece-lined shirt. Maybe Titus was right and living in this century really had put ideas in her head, such as the foolish notion she was a fearless, capable, modern woman. The only problem was she didn’t think being modern gave her license to be deceitful, any more than it had given her instant courage. But then, visiting this century a few weeks a year for the last four years, and even living here for the last five months, didn’t automatically make an ancient woman
modern
, now did it?

Sweet Athena, she’d made a mess of things. If she were as mad at Titus as he appeared to be at her, she’d probably walk home without him.

Not that he would ever consider leaving her out here alone. Because he loved her—even if she didn’t particularly love herself at the moment.

• • •

Titus stood deep in the nighttime shadows watching Rana wind back her arm to throw her socks after him only to lower her hands to her lap. Barely able to breathe for the tightness in his chest, he saw her scowl as she appeared to have a conversation with herself while putting on the socks, then watched her curl up inside his shirt and stare unblinking at the fire as she obviously fought back tears.

He scrubbed his hands over his face to keep from roaring in frustration, then ran his fingers through his hair with a tired sigh. How in the name of Hades had he allowed her to get pregnant again? For all these years he had managed to keep her in good health, safe from their enemies, and sheltered from the heart-wrenching aspects of the world, and in the end it very well might be his love—and lust—that ultimately killed her.

Assuming she was even pregnant, as it was still possible she had misread the signs and merely reached the end of her childbearing years. And although he knew women often had a difficult time accepting the undeniable proof that they were aging, at least she would be
alive
to voice her displeasure that men missed out on that wonderful transition.

Titus felt the beginnings of a smile at the notion he’d managed to sneak a bit of the magic into their marriage, though he suspected Rana had known all along he had subtly been slowing her aging process. Which was why despite being in her mid-fifties, she had the physique of a woman in her early forties. But being an intelligent woman, she had never broached the subject to him, apparently having decided it was something she could live with. Although if she had asked, he truthfully could have told her he’d never broken his vow, as it had been
time
he’d manipulated, not her.

Only once had Rana wanted something from the magic for herself. And of all the things she could have asked for, it had been the one thing he hadn’t been able to grant. He’d made sure Annabelle and Aaron Proust had been blessed with good health and fortune—although not on a grand scale, as was their wish—but he hadn’t been able to protect them from an invading army bent on destroying anything and everyone in its path. And by the time news of the tragedy had reached Atlantis, it had been too late to return her parents to his heartbroken wife.