Donovan's Woman (10 page)

Gryff paused behind the fountain, all his senses going on high alert as the faint signature of witchcraft washed over him. Had Serepta found them already? His gaze swept the village, his tension gradually waning with the realization that it wasn’t Serepta’s magic he was sensing, nor was it dark magic. Unless he was mistaken, he was picking up on the presence of a powerful witch nearby.

He lifted a hand to the collar at his throat. A witch had conjured it. Perhaps another witch could undo the spell. Maybe even figure out a way to remove the damn thing.

Several people clad in peasant clothing sent glances in his direction. Most were merely curious, a few were wary.

“Sir?”

Sir?
Turning, Gryff came face-to-face with a young woman. Short and slim, she was covered head to foot in a robe similar to the one he wore. “Something you want?” he asked.

Hands clasped, she regarded him through mild gray eyes. “I think there is something
you
want.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Nourishment for yourself and your companion. A change of clothes.” She wrinkled her nose. “A bath.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“One who can help you, if you’ll let me.”

“And why would you do that?”

Inclining her head, she murmured, “Perhaps I was mistaken. Forgive my intrusion.”

Gryff laid hold on her arm when she started to turn away. “You’re not mistaken.”

“I live in the house with the blue door. You and your companion are welcome to share my table.”

“Obliged.”

He watched her walk away, noting that she was soon surrounded by a number of children, all reaching out to touch her.

With a shake of his head, he went to fetch Marri.

* * *

“Are you sure we can trust her?” Marri clung to Gryff’s hand as the village came into view.

Gryff shrugged. “We’ll soon find out.”

As they approached the village, Marri noted several open-air stalls located around a pretty bubbling fountain. Vendors sold a variety of goods. A dozen or so houses made a wider circle beyond the stalls. She heard the ring of a blacksmith’s hammer, the wail of a baby, the chiming of a distant bell. A church somewhere in the distance, perhaps?

“Where are we going?” she asked as they passed the vendors and made their way down a narrow, dirt road.

Gryff jerked his chin toward a small house with a blue door. “A witch lives there.”

Marri came to an abrupt halt. “Another witch!”

“She’s a good witch. I think.”

“You think?”

“Come on,” he said, tugging on her hand. “She offered us food and shelter and we need both.”

Marri shook her head. “Why would a stranger offer to help us?”

“I don’t know. But I didn’t sense anything evil about her, and I’m tired and hungry.”

Marri was about to argue further, but her stomach chose that moment to make another unladylike complaint. Hoping they weren’t making a terrible mistake, she followed Gryff along the path to the house with the blue door.

The witch opened it before he knocked. “Please, come in,” she invited.

As soon as Marri saw the woman, all her misgivings faded away. There was something in the witch’s dove-gray eyes that inspired confidence, something in the gentleness of her voice that garnered trust.

“Sit and be comfortable while I prepare you something to eat,” the witch said.

“Can I help?” Marri asked.

“If you wish.”

Marri glanced at Gryff then followed the witch into the kitchen.

Gryff sank down on the divan, tapped his fingers on the arm while he glanced around a room decorated in earth tones of beige, brown and sage. The furnishings were simple but exquisite — the couch on which he sat, a low table, the plush carpet on the floor, and, in the far corner, a shrine of some kind.

He was almost asleep when Marri plucked at his sleeve. “Our meal is ready.”

Rising, Gryff followed her into the kitchen, his mouth watering at the pleasant aromas that filled the air.

The witch indicated a place at the table. “Please, sit.”

“Smells good,” he remarked, taking the seat she indicated.

The witch nodded her thanks.

Marri sat across from Gryff.

“I am Seleena,” the witch said as she filled their glasses with wine.

Gryff introduced himself, then said, “This is Marri.”

“King Leonid’s daughter. I am pleased to meet you.”

“You know me?” Marri exclaimed. “How is that possible?”

“I know many things.”

“Do you know where we’re going?” Gryff asked.

“To Tarnn.”

He frowned. “And where we’ve been?”

“In Serepta’s realm.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“You will not use such language in my presence. I let it pass once. I will not do so again.”

Gryff’s jaw tightened at the reproof. After taking a deep breath, he murmured, “My apologies. But how do you know that?”

Seleena inclined her head. “I have been blessed with many gifts. One of them is to read those who come into my presence. I know Marri is seeking refuge in the cloister at Tarnn and that you seek to escape Serepta’s power over you. If you wish, I can remove the collar.”

“I don’t think it can be removed, except by the witch who bespelled it.”

Seleena smiled indulgently. “I can undo this one. I am Serepta’s mother.”

Gryff blinked at her. His first reaction was disbelief. And then distrust. What if the mother was worse than the daughter? Calling on his wolf senses, he took a deep breath, but he detected no evil in the woman or in her home.

The witch regarded him calmly, obviously aware of his scrutiny.

They looked enough alike to be sisters, he thought, but her mother? And then he grunted softly. Witches didn’t age the way regular mortals did; and when they did start to show signs of growing older, they often invoked a spell to veil their years.

“The collar,” Seleena said as he settled back in his chair. “Do you wish me to remove it?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“I must warn you, it will likely cause some discomfort.”

Gryff lifted a hand to the golden collar hidden by his robe. “I’m no stranger to pain. Just get the blasted thing off me.”

“Let us finish our meal first.”

Gryff nodded. Was it possible she could remove the damn thing? He didn’t care how much it hurt to get rid of it. He just wanted it gone.

They finished the meal in silence. A wave of the witch’s hand cleared the table.

“If you’re ready, I’ll remove that collar now,” she remarked.

“More than ready.” Rising, he pulled the robe over his head and tossed it aside.

When he resumed his seat, the witch moved behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders, gently massaging away the tension. “Relax. She cannot find you here.”
Gryff closed his eyes as the witch’s hands soothed him.

Moments later, she began to sing. He couldn’t understand the words, but they wound around him, weaving a spell as her voice grew louder. He tensed as Seleena’s hands moved to the collar. He broke out in a cold sweat as her power overwhelmed Serepta’s, tearing apart the other witch’s spell, wresting it not only from the metal around his neck but seemingly draining it from his very core.

It was a pain to rival the worst Serepta had ever inflicted on him.

A harsh cry escaped his lips as the collar bit into his flesh, as if it was fighting the witch’s efforts to remove it, and then, to his amazement, it disintegrated and disappeared.

Gryff blew out a sigh of relief, then glanced over his shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do for you….”

“My daughter? How is she?”

“As mean and vindictive as ever.”

“She wasn’t always so,” Seleena remarked. “It was the vampire blood that changed her.” She shook her head, as if to clear it. “You are welcome to stay the night, if you wish, though I only have one extra room.”

“That’ll be fine,” Gryff said. “Again, I’m in your debt.”

“I’m very tired,” Marri said. “Would it be all right if I retire now?”

“Of course. Come, I’ll show you to your room. There’s a bath waiting. Clean towels. A change of clothing for you both.”

Marri looked at Gryff. “Are you coming?”

“No. I’ll be along in a while.”

She nodded. Eager to be out of her stolen clothing, Marri quickly followed the witch out of the room.

Gryff paced the floor for a few minutes, then, feeling suddenly restless, he left the house.

With the setting of the sun, most of the villagers had retired to their homes. The food stalls were closed. A couple of dogs nosed around the empty stalls.

Feeling free for the first time in weeks, Gryff strolled the empty road. More than once, his hand went to his neck just to make sure the hated collar was really gone.

Seleena was Serepta’s mother. Talk about a small world, he thought, and then came to an abrupt halt. Was he being a fool, to trust the mother? Was her offer of shelter merely a ruse to keep them here until Serepta’s arrival?

Shit!

For all he knew, the mother could be worse than the daughter!

Suddenly fearing for Marri’s safety, he sprinted back to Seleena’s house.

Marri reclined in the tub, enjoying the froth of scented bubbles, the luxury of clean hot water. It was wonderful to relax, to have a full belly, to feel safe.

The room, though small when compared to her room at Brynn, was quite lovely, from the colorful quilt on the double bed to the painting on the wall.

She glanced at the door, wondering where Gryff had gone, when he would return. She liked him far too much, spent too many hours dreaming of things that could never be. He was a commoner, unlearned, more than a little rough around the edges. Not that it mattered. Once she entered the convent, she would never see him again.

She wished she could get word to Annis that she was coming, but she dared not try to send a message for fear it would fall into the wrong hands. She wondered briefly if Artur would believe her if she sent him a letter assuring him that she had no designs on the throne. Even if he believed her and welcomed her home, she could never have a life with Gryff. As Princess of House Treymanne, she would be forced to marry a peer of the realm, perhaps to assure peace with another part of the kingdom, or add wealth to Brynn Tor’s coffers.

She ran her fingers through the bubbles. Even though she had been in the tub for some time, the water was still hot, the bubbles still abundant. Witchcraft, she mused with a grin. It wasn’t all bad.

Marri drifted on the edge of sleep when the bathroom door banged open. She bolted upright, water splashing over the edge of the tub, her heart pounding. Had Serepta found them? She pressed a hand to her heart when she saw Gryff standing in the doorway.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his gaze darting around the room.

“I was until you frightened me half to death. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just over-reacting, I guess.” He leaned back against the door jamb. Maybe his fears for their safety were groundless.

And then he noticed — really noticed — Marri for the first time. She had piled her hair atop her head, save for a few damp tendrils that framed her face. Bubbles covered her almost to her chin, but Gryff had no trouble picturing the delectable body hidden beneath the soapy water. In a heartbeat, he forgot all about the witch. A fact that was blatantly evident if Marri chose to notice.

She blushed hotly under his lusty gaze. They had spent weeks together. Spent nights within inches of each other. She had comforted him while he cried, seem him in pain. Naked.

That thought made her cheeks burn even hotter.

“Marri.”

She blinked up at him, her whole body yearning toward him. Her breath caught in her throat when he took a step toward her, his eyes hot. Surely he didn’t mean to ravish her? And hard on the heels of that thought, she found herself wondering if that would be so bad.

Gryff took another step. Another. And then paused. What the hell was he doing? Was he seriously thinking of seducing Marri, Princess of Brynn Tor? Even if he didn’t have a price on his head, even if Serepta didn’t have her henchmen searching for him, even if he had the means to support a wife, Marri could never be his.

He might be a wanted man and a rogue, but he hadn’t yet stooped to deflowering virgins, no matter how tempted he might be.

Cursing under his breath, he pivoted on his heel, stalked out of the room, and slammed the door.

Marri stared after him, blinking back tears of disappointment. She wasn’t a complete fool. She knew there was no chance of a future with Gryff, didn’t know if he would even be interested if it was possible, but in her heart she had hoped he might take her by force, thereby allowing her to be intimate with a man she cared for while absolving her of guilt.

The thought shamed her. Decent women saved themselves for marriage. But she would never be allowed to marry a man she loved. Shouldn’t it be her right to give her virginity to a man she cared for? It was a gift that could be given only once. And she wanted Gryff to have it.

Sighing, she stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel, wondering if she had the courage to offer Gryff what he had been reluctant to take.

* * *

Marri drew the covers over her shoulders. Hours had passed since she bathed and still Gryff hadn’t come to bed. Where was he? Had he shifted and gone running through the night? Or had he decided he would rather sleep on the couch than share a bed with her? She had been so certain it was desire she had seen in his eyes earlier. Had she been mistaken?

She shook her head. He had held her, kissed her. He might not love her, but he wanted her. She was sure of it. And she wanted him.

Sighing, she turned onto her side and closed her eyes.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard the soft creak of the bedroom door opening. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Gryff slip into the room. Though it was hard to see in the dark, she heard the whisper of cloth over skin as he removed his shirt, the soft thud of his boots as they hit the floor.

She held her breath as he walked to the far side of the bed, felt her whole being tense as she waited for him to slide under the covers beside her.

Frowned when he didn’t.

Experienced a keen sense of frustration when she realized he intended to sleep on the floor.

* * *

Gryff stretched out on the rug, his arms folded under his head and stared up at the ceiling. He could hear Marri tossing and turning, couldn’t help wondering if the same itch was keeping them both awake.

Reminding himself that there was no future for the two of them, he put the thought out of his mind. Earlier, while Marri bathed, he had talked to Seleena. She hadn’t divulged the reasons for the hard feelings between her and her daughter, but he got the impression that whatever caused the rift had been pretty bad.

All thoughts of witches fled his mind when Marri cried out.

He was on his feet and at her side in a heartbeat.

“Marri.” He called her name softly. When she didn’t respond, he gently shook her shoulder, jerked out of reach when she began to thrash on the bed.

“No! No! Let me go!”

Grasping her shoulders, he shook her again, harder this time. “Marri, wake up. You’re safe.”

Her eyes flew open and she stared up at him. “Gryff?”

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he stroked her cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I dreamed my brother found me. He was going to throw me out of the tower window, like he did that poor kitten.”

“He threw a cat out of a window?”

Marri nodded. “It wasn’t some horrible boyish prank, either. He was almost twenty-one at the time.”

“Sounds like the perfect match for Serepta,” Gryff muttered.

Sitting up, Marri wrapped her arms around her middle.

“You’re shivering,” Gryff said. “Are you cold?”

“No. Would you hold me?”

He didn’t answer, simply curled his arm around her waist and drew her close. He swore softly when she rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled against him. Damn. Did she know what she was doing to him? What he wanted to do to her?

Five minutes became ten. Fifteen.

His nerves were strung tight, his whole body throbbing with need, when the soft, even sound of her breathing told him she had fallen asleep.

Easing her down under the covers, he didn’t know whether to curse Fate or thank his lucky stars.

* * *

Seleena sat in her rocking chair in front of the hearth, one hand stroking the cat curled in her lap. The man, Gryff, had been Serepta’s prisoner. As soon as he had entered her house, she had felt the pain her daughter had inflicted on him. Even after all this time, it was hard to believe that her daughter, her only child, had turned into such a monster. How long ago it seemed since she had been not only Serepta’s mother, but her mentor and best friend, as well.

She had taught Serepta everything she knew, felt a mother’s pride in watching her daughter learn and grow in the art of witchcraft. Serepta had been a gentle child, loving, kind to all — animals, people, the earth. Witchcraft had come easily to her, but that was to be expected. Though Serepta had never known her father, he was the greatest wizard in the land. By the time she was ten, Serepta had mastered fire and water. By the time she was twenty, she had learned everything Seleena could teach her.

And it hadn’t been enough. Serepta had wanted more power. And she had found it in the blood of a vampire.

But Seleena’s magic — pure and undefiled — remained the stronger of the two.

To prove it, she had cast a protection spell around the couple sleeping in her guest room. It would effectively prevent Serepta from locating the pair when they left here.

She smiled inwardly. All magic carried the signature of the one who conjured it. Her only regret was that she wouldn’t be there to see the expression on her daughter’s face when she realized who had thwarted her.

* * *

In the morning, Marri didn’t think she could face Gryff. What must he think of her? Acting like a child, begging to be held because of a nightmare. And then snuggling up against him like some…some…heat flooded her cheeks. Some wanton.

But what else could he think? She had let him kiss her several times when she should have pushed him away. Just thinking about his kisses filled her with a different kind of heat, one that spread through her and settled in the deepest part of her.

Maybe she was a wanton, she thought. Because she surely wanted him.

She glanced around the room, wondering where he was, practically jumped out of her skin when he appeared beside her. “Did you spend the night on the floor?” she asked, pressing a hand to her thundering heart.

He looked at her, then the bed. “Where else?”

Her gaze flew to his naked chest as he uncoiled from the floor in one lithe movement. Shirtless, his hair tousled, a growth of whiskers shading his jaw, he looked roguish and dangerous and more desirable than ever.

Her breath caught in her throat when his gaze met hers. She swallowed hard. “Are we leaving today?”

He nodded. “Reckon so.”

Would he make love to her if she asked? When they reached Tarnn, she would plead with the sisters to accept her into their order. Once she had taken her vows, she would never see another man except for the priest who came monthly to hear the nuns’ confessions. If he didn’t make love to her, no one ever would.

Before she could summon her nerve, Seleena called them in to breakfast. Perhaps it was just as well. As tempting as Gryff was, she knew making love to him wasn’t a good idea. And what if she got pregnant? That thought alone changed her mind.

Seleena proved to be a remarkable cook. Good meals had been scarce and Marri thanked her profusely.

Seleena dismissed her thanks away with a wave of her hand. “I enjoy cooking. It isn’t often I entertain guests. You should be safe from my daughter until you reach your destination.”

“Why’s that?” Gryff asked.

“I’ve woven a spell to prevent her from locating you. But be cautious. She can be treacherous.”

He grunted softly. He was well aware of the way Serepta’s mind worked. He had the scars — physically and mentally — to prove it.

Seleena refused Marri’s offer to help clean up after breakfast. “I know you must be in a hurry to be on your way.”

She presented each of them with a change of clothing and when they were ready to leave, she handed Gryff a large sack filled with food and a flagon of wine for their journey.

At the door, Gryff hefted the bag over his shoulder. “Thanks for putting us up and everything.”

“I am sorry for whatever pain and suffering my daughter caused the two of you.”

“Not your fault. You ready, Marri?”

“Yes. Thank you, Seleena.”

Marri followed Gryff out of the house and down the road. She felt the witch’s gaze following them until they were out of sight.