Forever (Book #3 in the Fateful Series) (16 page)

Chapter 8

Worse Than Spiders?

Casanova lowered Danielle’s feet to the ground. He’d brought her to their bedroom while the others took care of the spiders. For that she was grateful. However, despite the fact that he’d said he didn’t see any more spiders, she couldn’t resist searching for more anyway. She released a shuddering exhale as she remembered seeing so many
big ones
creeping right toward her.

“Are you all right?” asked the French guard who drove Ethan crazy. Danielle still believed his flirtation was innocent, but she could easily see why the way the guard invaded her space pushed Ethan’s possessive buttons.

She nodded in response, but kind of felt like it was a lie. She didn’t like the fact that Lucas was still after her, and she did didn’t like the fact that he was a werewolf now. She also didn’t like the fact that they had to live on the run until they solved this problem. But none of that had been as horrible as having hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of spiders invade her space in a way that was a hundred times more disturbing than anything Casanova did. Another shudder worked its way over her body ... they’d been crawling all over her! Instinctively, she brushed off her sleeves even though there was nothing there to brush off.

Stopping the nervous action, Casanova took her hand into his and made her turn in a circle as he apparently inspected her for any stray spiders. “All clear,” he said. “I promise.”

Had she caught a twinkle of mocking amusement in his eye just now? All she could manage in reply was, “Thank you,” in a tight voice as embarrassment surged up from her gut to lodge in her throat. Sure, she could take on a threatening male with a confident roll of her shoulders, but when faced by any little beast with eight legs, her self-confidence collapsed. Just like any girl’s, or most, anyway. It was mortifying really. Wanting to escape the sardonic glimmer in his eyes, she stepped backward, moving closer to her bedroom.

It wasn’t a
room
exactly. It was more like a bed in the woods that was surrounded by four walls of vines. The weird magical part was the fact that the vines parted like a curtain of beads from the outside, but once on the inside, the leaves knitted together and looked like wallpapered walls. The strange leafy vines flattened and made a geometric leaf pattern as though painted and not consisting of real plants.

Casanova reached out and brushed the hair out of her face. “Ah, pauvre petite amour. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Danielle tried not to laugh at the words he’d cooed in French. The older vampires “my lord-ed” Ethan, and “my lady-ed” her a lot, except for Casanova. With him it was always, ma chaton, or ma chérie, or petite amour. Or even, and this was the one that made Ethan spit violent curses, ma minette. Only because she’d asked did she know it meant
my pussycat
. “The cad,” Ethan would growl when he heard that one uttered. Reaching back, she felt her fingers brush past the vines. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks for helping.”

“I’ll wait with you until Ethan get’s here.”

“That isn’t necessary...” The sun would be setting soon, and she really didn’t want to be tempted by his vampire scent when it did. Casanova was too close for that.

“What if the spiders infiltrated your bedchamber?” he asked as she began to back through the curtain of leaves.

She paused, her insides twisting at the idea.

“Shall I investigate?” he offered with a lift of his sable eyebrows.

Deciding to let him do that, she moved aside as she pondered that perhaps the French people were simply more openly affectionate than most from England and America. That would explain his tendency to stand too close and his habit of speaking so romantically. Ethan needed to chill, she thought, as the vampire brushed past her and began searching the room for spiders. Richard trusted him, and she made a mental promise to do the same. He was just like Richard, actually, very dedicated in protecting her from any possible harm. To do that, he had to be physically close, and he had to keep a constant eye on her, because the guards just didn’t know when or where the next threat would come from. Especially after this most recent attack of spiders.

Casanova got down on his hands and knees as he checked beneath the bed. His knees sank into the moss carpeting as he lifted the bed skirt and bent down farther. She jumped when Ethan asked from behind her, “What is the scoundrel doing in
our
bedroom?” Only then did she realize that it looked like she was admiring Casanova’s firm backside even though she wasn’t. Danielle snapped her eyes shut, because—against her will of course—her gaze had landed there as she thought about it. Dang it.

Facing Ethan, and meeting his gaze, she answered with, “He’s checking for spiders,” taking in the expression of jealous anger holding his features captive.

“Hm.”

Danielle knew by his almost barbaric way of grunting out a short “hm” that he was as irritated as usual. A sigh left her lungs and she touched his arm in an effort to soothe him. Casanova would leave soon, he would have to as night set in and the curse came alive. “He’s harmless.”

The words drew Ethan’s full attention, and he aimed a pair of raised eyebrows at her. Folding his arms across his chest, he released a sigh as well, and asked, “Did he flirt with you? Again?”

“He’s French,” she whispered. Her eyes danced to Casanova as he neared them. Gulping, she realized Casanova had heard that.

Ethan’s eyes shifted to Casanova and then back to her. “The fairies got rid of the spiders,” he said to the vampire without looking at him. “It isn’t necessary for you to look beneath our bed.” As he spoke, he moved into their room, his gaze touching on everything as though he didn’t fully believe what he’d just said.

A rich and slightly accented guffaw rumbled out of Casanova. “Are you feeling threatened?” The Frenchman gave Ethan a friendly punch in the shoulder. “You needn’t fear me, because she’s right.”

It appeared as though Ethan was trying to stand taller, even though he would always be a little shorter than Casanova. The way he always compared himself to the guards just wasn’t necessary. Casanova may have been taller, but he was also thinner. Not in a lanky sort of way, his frame was still packed with muscle, but Ethan was slightly broader in the shoulders and he’d maintain the tone he’d had as a vampire, which was a more difficult feat in her opinion. And Danielle sort of wished he could see that he wasn’t shorter than all of the guards. He was taller than Cedric, and about the same height as Richard.

“She’s right about what, exactly?” Ethan asked. “That you’re French? That’s your excuse for overstepping your bounds?”

Casanova grinned. “You don’t need to be worried about me, or any of the others. We’re not a threat to you because we’re not here to seduce your wife, even if she is tr
é
s bell
é
.”

Ethan’s stance took on a threatening edge as he braced his feet shoulder width apart, his hands fisting at his sides, but he said nothing in response to that.

Still grinning, it was clear Casanova had noticed the change but ignored it. Casanova’s dark eyes rose as he perused Ethan more closely. Lifting a finger and drawing a small circle in Ethan’s direction before dropping it, the French guard noted with a hint of amusement, “Your eye is twitching. Have you been eating too much sugary fairy-food?”

Ethan blinked. “I’m probably just sleep deprived.”

“I supposed that’s a mortal weakness then. The twitching thing.”

Gaping now, Ethan blinked again.

“You probably have some rare disease that causes it. The twitching, I mean.”

“Thanks, man.” There was nothing grateful in how Ethan said that as the two words practically oozed sarcasm.

“We all die sometime, my friend,” Casanova said in a cheerful tone.

“But not you,” Ethan ground out.

“Well, of course not. I’m a vampire, and proud of it.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed on the guard.

Casanova groaned and rolled his eyes. “Look, we
want
to be here to protect you, both of you. I do have other things I could be doing besides camp in the woods with fairies and mortals.” The vampire suddenly captured Ethan’s face between his palms and kissed the air beside each of Ethan’s cheeks. Ethan nearly fell on his backside when the guard released him. “It’s an innocent and simple
French
thing to do ... very much like the way I guard your dear wife. Being a Brit, and my national neighbor, you should know this. Or is your brain also addled by this unfortunate disease that is plaguing you with random bouts of twitching?”

“Shouldn’t you be leaving?” Ethan folded his arms as his weight rolled to his left foot. “The sun is setting, and I don’t want a cursed man around my wife.”

Again, Casanova laughed. “It wouldn’t matter here.”

Confusion clouded Ethan’s expression as his eyebrows lifted. “Why not?”

This was the first time Danielle had ever heard Casanova sigh. “I regret to confess that the curse is weakened while we live here and eat that too-sweet diet the fairies feed us.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched and Danielle wondered if he found that humorous. “You’ve lost your super powers?” he asked, sounding a little too hopeful.

“We don’t need blood either.”

“They probably didn’t want you ... consuming any of the wildlife while on their land,” commented Ethan with a hint of victory in his tone.

“They said as much, yes.”

“Do you miss it?” Danielle was prompted to ask even though she secretly wanted to ask if he still
craved
it.

Casanova looked back through the opening in the leaf-curtain wall. It certainly seemed like the sun had sunk beneath the horizon because it was so dark outside and lanterns had been lit along a path that disappeared into the trees. They usually came back here each evening after the fairies had danced for them and the fire had burned down to pale orange embers. Inside their room, two wall sconces always remained lit on either side of the bed because the magical bedroom had no windows. When the vampire turned back to them, he said, “I—,” he swallowed, “I don’t necessarily miss blood, but I am growing tired of the need to chew everything I consume. The fangs—”

“I remember how it works,” Danielle said, not wanting to hear him describe how the fangs drew the blood along with the being’s life-force into you. And she hadn’t exactly liked how it felt when they came out and jabbed her in the lip. She barely resisted another shudder of repulsion. Thoroughly curious now, Danielle lifted her gaze to Casanova’s to test the magic there. Her eyes rounded. “I’m not affected at all.”

“She means by your good looks, not the curse magic,” said Ethan dryly.

“Thanks for clarifying,” responded the vampire, his tone equally dry. The silence after that became awkward and that’s when Casanova began backing out. “It’s been fun, mes petits. I’ll run along now and eat fairy cakes against my will with the other vampires.”

Danielle laughed at the image that had just popped into her mind when he said that. She saw all of the big burly men sitting around a fairy-made table dining on teacakes with their little pinkies sticking out.

His sable eyebrow kicked up at her. “I’m serious. They really
force
us each night because they don’t want the curse revived.”

“It’s not permanent, is it?” asked Ethan.

“They said it wasn’t.” The words came out slow, and it was apparent that Casanova was remembering all of the times the fairies had twisted the truth.

After watching Casanova disappear into the dark woods, Ethan brushed a hand over the leaf curtain. The action caused it to magically close so that they were alone in their bedroom without doors and windows. He turned to face her. “Were you bitten by any of the spiders?”

Her eyes shot to his and she noticed the worry darkening the blue. “No. Why?”

“The fairies think they were sent for you and could have been spelled so that their bite would affect you in a different way.”