Love's Battle (True Blue Trilogy) (16 page)

Read Love's Battle (True Blue Trilogy) Online

Authors: Angela Hayes

Tags: #Time Travel, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

BOOK: Love's Battle (True Blue Trilogy)
3.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“That’s just it Love.” Danton’s hands reached up to caress my cheek. “I can’t walk away. Not from you, not ever. Something changed in me the moment I saw you, a shift deep inside. I can’t ever go back.”

Danton would never know how deeply those words of endearment affected me. I closed my eyes against the tears that threatened to spill out from under my lids and pressed my lips to his. The second kiss was anything but quick and gentle. It was an onslaught. Full of emotions that flowed through his heart and mine.

I cursed the ringing cell phone that broke us apart. “Love Howard.”

“So how’d it go?” Faith asked without preamble.

“Fine.”

“Is he with you now?”

“Yes.”

“Hubba hubba. Hey listen, I found something today I’d like you to see. Can you swing by after work?”

“Sure.”

“Tell my future brother in law I said hi.”

I flipped the phone closed. “Faith says ‘Hi’. She found something on a treasure hunt and wants me to see it later.”

“Dinner afterwards?”

“Of course.” I pressed a chaste kiss to his muted olive cheek, craving another taste of him. “Now let’s go eat.”

If I didn’t get out of this office I was going to lose all of my self-control, rip his clothes off and use the office furniture in ways it definitely wasn’t intended.

Chapter 31

Necklace

“I still haven’t come up with an idea for Hope’s re-payment yet.” I told Faith as we sat in her chic fairytale themed living room chatting and drinking some sweet tea.

Due to our uniqueness, it seemed only fitting that her house look like something out of a modern day fable. A study of stucco, done in Romanesque Revival style, it was complete with a mini turret surrounded by a well-tended wildflower garden that bloomed in abundance. Inside the living room walls were painted moon beam gray, the color of the lightest fog, lined with colorful tapestries depicting the story of Briar Rose; Faith’s favorite.

The series began with the queen returning the stranded magical fish back to its watery home. The second of the king and queen welcoming the long awaited promised birth of their first child. The third of the fated dinner that snubbed the thirteenth faery and the twelfth faery’s magical gift that saved the young princess from sure death. The fourth was of Briar Rose pricking her finger on the spinning wheel. Fifth, the entire kingdom asleep where they stood as it rode out its one hundred years in slumber. Sixth, Briar’s prince waking her with a kiss. And last but not least, their marriage. Everyone one of the illustrating tapestries had been woven by Faith herself. They’d taken her years to complete.

Faith had been a minimalist long before it became popular and what scarce furnishings she had made a great impact.

In one corner stood an entire freshly polished suit of armor, the mantel above her fireplace lined with fat colored candles. Oversized furniture enclosed in white slipcovers sat atop a thick purple rug.

“She’s been such a bitch lately that it’s taken all the fun out of it.” I complained, running my fingers over Faith’s long haired silver Norwegian Forest cat, Sif. Aptly named after the Norse goddess known for her beautiful hair she sat in my lap, enjoying a rub down.

“Love.” Faith scolded.

“I know, I know,” I threw my hands in the air causing Sif to jump down, obviously miffed at me. “It’s just that it’s been a really long time. I thought she’d be over it by now, ready to move on.” Pain filled my voice. “It hurts her so much.”

“She’s better than she was.” Faith pointed out, “It’ll just take some more time.”

I shook my head in disagreement. “I don’t know. I just feel like every time we meet our new loves it only puts her nose more out of joint. Just because she can’t move on, does she think we shouldn’t? Maybe I should set her up on a blind date, throw some fresh meat her way. She’d really hate that!” I conspired.

“That would be funny, if it wasn’t in such poor taste.” Faith acknowledge, admonishing me for my petulance.

Hope had made the choice after we were betrayed in our eighth life not to find her true love again. It was a choice she’d stuck to, damning the consequences. Hope had done everything in her power to avoid the last two men in question, going so far as to never leave the house in our ninth life when she came of age, to flat out ignoring the man in her tenth life. Uncontrollable events and the decisions she made in the wake of them had left her a bitter person. Oh, she did well enough hiding it from everyone else, but she couldn’t hide this from us. Not when we were her favorite targets for venting her repressed anger.

“Bastard.” I cursed. It had been three hundred and eighteen years since I had last laid eyes on the man who had deceived us, breaking my sister’s heart and spirit in the process. The thoughts I had of her true love were not fond ones. The worst words in the human language would never come close to describing what I felt toward him.

“She’ll come around eventually.” Faith soothed.

“In the meantime she’s making us and herself miserable for no reason!”

“You know Hope believes she has reason enough.”

“She’s lying to herself. We don’t blame her. We never have.”

“Still, those who carry self-blame carry a heavy weight on their shoulders.”

“She shouldn’t blame herself,” I said stubbornly. “No one could have predicted what that particular life would bring us.”

“Hope still can’t see that, but she will one day. In the meantime it weighs like lead on her heart. When she refuses to accept the man fate has given her, it affects him too. She won’t be able to take much more remorse. Perhaps the next man won’t let her refuse him out of hand as the others have.”

“He’ll have to have an extremely strong will.” I predicted, putting away my murderous hatred for a man whose unearthly presence continued to be felt in our lives nearly four centuries after the fact. I refocused on the reason I was there.

“Show me what you found.” I told Faith, effectively putting the matter to rest.

Patting my knee she reached for the small brown box sitting on her round coffee table, tossed it to me. “I found this in the attic of a Pennsylvania Queen Anne. I still have to verify it through official sources. I was thinking of giving Hope a call and seeing if she’ll do it, and then purchase it anonymously for me, but …”

Removing the lid revealed a delicate lavaliere. An intricate web of spun gold inlaid with tiny seed pearls and generous ruby slivers.

“I know it’s early and I hope I don’t jinx things, but I thought of you when I saw it. It’s to be your something old.”

Gently I ran my fingers over the antique collar, moved greatly by my sisters’ gift. “Sixteenth century I’d say, family heirloom.”

“I’d guess the rubies total about five carets.”

I replaced the lid and hugged my sister. “It’s beautiful, perfect for a fall wedding. I’d be honored to wear it. Thank you.”

Leaning back I caressed the shadows under Faith’s eyes with the same reverence I’d bestowed on the necklace. “You haven’t been sleeping well.”

Where my past lives rarely haunted my dreams, Faith had no such escape; reliving her past lives night after night. Unlike Hope and I, Faith’s true love never changed. Our past husbands were fresh un-recycled souls. Faith’s husband was the same over and over again. He was Cinaed, she was Riona. They were forever.

“The dreams are becoming more vivid. A built in mechanism to make sure we don’t forget. We’ll find each other soon enough.” She answered, trying to ease my mind.

Curiosity got the better of me. Our situations were the same, but still different. “Don’t you ever wish it was someone else? Someone new?” I asked, the urge to know the truth more important that it had ever been before. It was a question that had been on my mind a lot in recent days.

“No.” Faith answered with complete understanding. “With every life we’re born into we change. It’s always like being with someone new.”

“It’s not even a little boring? Or taxing. What if he has the same bad habits he did last lifetime? I can’t see the anticipation? Oh well, it’s him again.”

“After eleven hundred years you learn to ignore the little things.” Faith confessed before blushing. “And there’s plenty of anticipation. It takes heightened expectations to an all new level. Wondering what the total package will entail and all.”

“TMI, too much information, and my cue to leave.” I returned the necklace, still beautiful under the tarnish of time. “Let me know when I can get this back.”

“I’ll do that. Give Danton my love.”

“Will do.”

Faith walked me to the door. “When will you tell him?”

I didn’t even pretend to misunderstand the subtle reminder in the question. “Saturday night.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him any sooner. I was being selfish, wanting to spend as much time with him as possible before I rocked his world. And I hoped that by sending him little tokens, reminding him that magic still exists in this world, that he’d grow accustom to the idea and that my revelations wouldn’t take him by complete surprise.

Much like Faith, I like giving gifts, but my reasons were two fold. I wanted Danton to have something special to remember me by when things changed. And things would indeed change. As much as I tried to prepare myself, the coming rejection was inevitable.

“I’ll be thinking of you.”

“Thanks,” I kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too!”

Chapter 32

Trinkets

Danton

“Hey boss, you got another one!” My ever efficient cousin called out, waltzing in with a plain white box I was fast becoming familiar with.

Wrapped with a purple ribbon, I’d received one a day since Monday, all courtesy of Love. Due to their presence I had to add a wall shelf on which to display these more unusual trinkets. It was a sad testament to my manhood that I more than looked forward to the gifts.

“What is it this time?” I asked.

“I don’t peek.” Sophia admonished, handing me the box. “But it is not without effort. Hurry up and open it. I want to see what it is!” Clapping her hands in anticipation Sophia’s enchantment turned to feminine coos of delight. “Oooh, a Pegasus. How pretty.”

And it was. The crystal winged horse stood proudly, gold tipped wings outstretched, front hooves pawing the air. She was magnificent.

Crossing the room I gently placed the magical creature next to its fellow kind, Aerilyn the elegant phoenix, a squat rosy cheeked gnome, a goofy smiling dragon, and a tempting mermaid that reminded me of Love, blonde hair raining down her back.

“I have to give it to Love, she sure is persistent.” Sophia observed.

I turned back to her, hands in my pockets. “These aren’t bribes. She knows we won’t handle the museum’s advertising.”

“Does she?”

“Yes.”

“So why is she sending you these?” Sophia asked, waving her hand to encompass the collection.

“She’s obviously sees it as flaw that I don’t believe in fairy tales. She’s trying to change my mind.”

“Is it working for you?”

I didn’t answer as I took my seat again, picked up my pen, rolling it through my fingers.

“’Cause it sure is working for me. No man I’ve dated has ever been this determined. Makes me think I should see what the other team has to offer.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Sophia had been interested in boys since she put on her first training bra and that was something that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.

“Maybe it’s not so much the who, but the what. You always pick the losers.” I pointed out.

Exaggerating, Sophia let out a depreciating sigh. “I have no other choice. You are my blood and alas, off limits. I am forever destined to be alone.”

“If it helps, I do know a good matchmaker.”

My cousin laughed, idly checking her watch. “Really? Give her my number would ya? Speaking of which, it’s after five and I’ve got a hot date. Is there anything else you need before I head out?”

“No, go on. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Have a good weekend.”

My having a good weekend went without saying, I would be spending it with a woman I was thinking might be The One. Nothing could ruin that.

“You too.” I called after her.

Chapter 33

Past Life II

Danton was fast becoming my new fixation in this life.

I looked forward to our early morning phone calls, learning as much as we could about the other.

Every second I spent without him was a second I spent thinking of him.

I got as much joy from picking out his little trinkets as I did just seeing him, touching him, hearing the sound of his voice.

The pattern of midday lunches and late night dinners had been as easy to fall into as the coming dream.

The draw of my past life was too strong to ignore as I lay in bed Friday night before the ball game considering the growing feelings between Danton and myself.

The warmth of the fire casting shadows along the castle walls of stone, danced on the woven tapestries that kept the cold from seeping in through the cracks. Out of the corner of my eye I surreptitiously watched Isabella, brilliant in her first breeding, rubbing lazy circles over her growing belly.

“What are you thinking of mon ange?” I asked, casually, pausing as I tidied the lushly furnished room with its velvets and silks. It was uncommon, this stillness in my queen.

“Hmmm. Oh, I was remembering the night when John and I married. It doesn’t seem as if two years have passed.”

The sweetness in Isabella’s tenor belied her true feelings of that night.

Under the cover of darkness John himself had come to Isabella’s room, stealing her out from under the nose of her family and betrothed, heedless to the consequences his actions would demand. The fast pace which he and his men had set in traveling to England and the domineering attitude that John portrayed as he had gone about the business of kidnapping his new bride had greatly offended Isabella’s young sensibilities.

It didn’t help John’s case any that she, like ourselves, had been trussed up like Christmas geese as we were transported to Bordeaux, where the marriage took place with great haste.

Had my sisters and I not been possessed of the gift we were born with, I’m sure these first tumultuous years would have been much worse. Not that they had been easy by any means. Our king and his wife were each in possession of quick and fiery tempers that caused problems between the two of them more often than not. Each used to getting their own way, both refusing to yield. Each hurting the other as retaliation- John with his constant infidelity, Isabella with her cruelty and spite. But as with any passionate fight, the making up between the two was that much sweeter.

Other books

Seventh Wonder by Renae Kelleigh
You, Maybe by Rachel Vail
Dear Rival by Robin White
Thief of Words by John Jaffe
Home Field Advantage by Johnson, Janice Kay
Carry Me Home by John M. Del Vecchio