The Golden Bell (6 page)

“Yellow arches, eat your heart out,” Rain
murmured, her mouth watering. Before she could ask what they were
serving, the stall on her left captured her attention. She gasped.
A beautiful jacket of wine-red velvet was displayed on a wooden
mannequin, complete with matching choker and earrings. Cropped,
close-fitted at the bust to hug a woman’s body, it fastened with a
gold clasp between the breasts. The sleeves were full and made of a
sheer, burgundy fabric with ruby and diamond crystal cuffs. At
least she assumed the stones were crystal; she wouldn’t dare
display real stones like that in an open market. A black silk
sarong and gorgeous sash were tied around the mannequin’s hips,
teasing the shopper with visions of trying it on.

Rain took a deep breath and put it out of her
head. Where would she wear it, even if she could afford it?
Ignoring a tempting, embroidered gold and silver sheath displayed
next to it, she lowered her gaze and tried not to drool over the
jewelry in the case below. A vine necklace with marquise cut white
crystals sparkled next to matching earrings displayed on black
velvet. The rest of the jewelry was impressively designed, but
nothing, in her opinion, matched that pretty set.

She glanced at Fallon, found him near, yet
conversing with another man as she window-shopped. He caught her
eye, smiled, and waved her on. Since he seemed content, she was
more than happy to keep looking.

“Good morning. Would you like a manicure or a
haircut?” an older woman with a hopeful smile greeted her as she
moved to the next stall. Before Rain could decline, Fallon stepped
forward and paid the woman.

“Pamper her,” he told the shopkeeper. “My
ward is being very patient with my preoccupation and deserves the
reward.” Giving Rain a dazzling grin white enough to keep her
blinking, he turned away and resumed his conversation.

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened at the coins
he’d set in her palm, and she beamed. “Come, dear, have a seat. My
daughters and I will make you the loveliest girl in the
Citadel.”

Before Rain knew what was happening, she was
seated in a comfortable chair and bombarded with questions about
split ends, what color nail polish she preferred and how long it
had been since she’d had a pedicure.

“Er, never,” she admitted, trying to catch a
glimpse of Fallon before the beautician tackled her ragged ends. It
had been a long time since she’d been to a salon, and she’d never
had three women hovering over her like the personal maids of some
pampered duchess. It felt marvelous and novel, and was a far cry
from how she’d expected the morning to go. The girls even massaged
her hands and feet, which tickled but also felt great. When they
finished painting pretty silver and gold designs on her nails, the
elder woman handed her a fruit drink, then beckoned in a man with
clothing cradled in his arms.

“For you, milady, compliments of Lord
Fallon,” he said, displaying his wares with a flourish. A midnight
blue top similar to the red one she’d admired was draped over his
arms. This one had short tulip sleeves and was embroidered with
silver and gold and had a silver and crystal butterfly clasp.

Her attendants “ooohed”.

The man offered an apologetic bow. “We are
very sorry the one you admired is not in your size, but we would be
happy to have one made for you, or to offer you a look at our other
inventory.”

“Oh, this one is beautiful, but…” she looked
around and tried to catch Fallon’s eye. He allowed her to hold it
for a moment, smiled slightly, then turned his attention to the man
he was speaking to, a different one than last time.

Rolling her eyes at his generosity, she
accepted the clothing with shy thanks, going behind the curtain in
the back of the tent to change. There were even matching sandals.
Wondering what she looked like, for she’d yet to see a mirror, she
drew back the curtain.

Fallon glanced at her and froze. Very slowly,
he inhaled, his eyes wandering from her head to her feet. By the
time they met hers again, they were a glowing, brilliant green.

Beaming, the shopkeeper took her arm and
pulled the breathless Rain in front of a full-length mirror. Rain
gasped.

That had to be her, but she couldn’t believe
it. Her hair was prettily braided and swept up from her face in a
princess’s coronet. She hadn’t paid much attention when the
shopkeeper had applied makeup, other than enjoying the attention
and praying she wouldn’t look like a clown when she was done.
Instead, the woman had used a light hand to highlight and conceal,
achieving an exotic, ethereal effect. Rain touched her rouged lips,
startled by the jewel effect of her silver and gold nails. The girl
in that mirror was lovely, and this had to be a dream.

Fallon hadn’t planned on giving Rain the vine
necklace until later, but she was so breathtaking that he couldn’t
resist. Her lips parted when he removed it from its velvet pouch
and clasped it around her neck, and her breath came faster as he
slipped in the matching earrings. Then he drew back a few inches
and admired her glowing skin and ruby lips. It was her eyes that
gave him pause, though. The shining green hinted of tears, an
emotion he hadn’t meant to invoke.

Slowly, she reached up and closed the
distance. A kiss like a soft summer breeze brushed his lips,
hesitated, was gone. It shook him more than he expected.

She lowered her eyes. “Thank you,” she
whispered.

Unable to bear the currents between them, he
raised her face. “The least you deserve.” Vaguely aware of the avid
curiosity of the others, he lifted his head and offered his arm.
“Are you hungry? There’s a restaurant in the Citadel I think you’d
enjoy. I’m starving.” Arranging for her clothes and his other
purchases to be sent to her quarters, he led her from the shop,
keeping the conversation light until she’d recovered.

It was mildly embarrassing and satisfying
that he’d been able to move her so deeply. While glad she was
enjoying herself, he was a little worried. Turning her head with
gifts hadn’t been his plan—he was surprised he’d managed to spend
what little he had on her so easily. Perhaps the shock of her
surroundings had thrown her off enough to make it work, but it had
been easy enough to pamper her. Would she grow used to it? Demand
it? Needy women made him ill, and he prayed that he hadn’t just
created one. On the other hand, she needed clothes, and creating a
pleasant mood on her first day had helped immensely.

He hadn’t been wasting time while she
shopped. He’d summoned his personal secretary to him the moment
they’d entered the market and caught up on events in his household.
He had a suite of rooms next to the vast Citadel gardens, and had
arranged for Rain to occupy the room next to him. Security would be
easier, and she’d have easy access to a familiar face. The idea
that he’d like having her close he ignored.

Rain tensed as they neared the massive
Citadel gates, currently raised for the day. It was not the sight
of the multiple rows of iron gates or the long tunnel cut from the
blue mountain that was the Citadel that made her stomach flip,
though. Guards stood at the gate…Haunt guards. Fully shifted, with
wolfish faces and bodies covered with hair, they might have come
straight from the cast of
Howling
III. Each guard wore black
pants, boots, and leather vests similar to Fallon’s, though none
had his red insignia. Armed with pistols and wicked looking knives
(one Haunt even carried a tomahawk at his side and had a rifle
holstered on his back) they gave new meaning to intimidation.

Nausea from the adrenalin dump threatened to
embarrass her. Shaking from battle instincts, she shifted her
weight to her toes and cursed her new clothes. Stupid fool! How
could she have been so easily sweet-talked out of her sturdy jeans
and running shoes?

“Easy,” Fallon said, equal parts command and
soothing in his voice. He kept moving toward the portal. “They’re
not holding the gate against you.”

“The last time I saw these things they were
tearing my father apart,” she snarled bitterly, unable to stop the
low growl rumbling at the back of her throat. She could feel her
canines lengthening, sharpening, the change that came without her
bidding when in danger. The guards were looking at her, and she
knew her eyes were glinting gold. Not that they’d care, since they
made her useless little changes look like costume makeup. Her eyes
jumped around, looking for handholds in the smooth rock face,
searching for the most likely nightmares to plow over if she had to
run.

The Haunt at the gate never took their eyes
from her.

“You’ve been surrounded by us for days now.
Your father was one of us. You carry our blood,” Fallon said
softly. Ever calm, he watched her as if she were no more deadly
than a child with monsters in her closet. He kept them moving
toward the gate.

Pain made her fingers curl as her fingernails
thickened, lengthened. “I’m not one of you,” she rasped, the change
making speech almost impossible.

Humor coloring his voice, Fallon glanced at
her. “I can see that.”

She didn’t even think. Turning on him, she
aimed for his belly with her deadly nails and tried to shove him
over backwards, hooking her foot behind his knee. One shove and she
could run, race for the forest portal…

It didn’t work. Instead, Fallon crushed her
to him, shifting her balance so she was plastered to his chest.
Fury and fear had her sinking her nails deep into his back, through
the leather of his vest. He grunted, and she felt the warm flow of
blood seep from the gouges. Shocked, she released him and backed
off. Blood stained her hands. Sickened by the sight, she stared at
him in misery.

He grunted again and flexed his back muscles
slowly. “We need some ground rules for these arguments of ours,
sweetheart.”

Lost, she turned her head and stared blindly
at nothing, her mind a careful blank. As shock calmed her, she felt
her body change back to normal.

Fallon took her arm in a firm grip and strode
for the gate while she was still biddable. Loudly, for the benefit
of those watching, he said, “If you’re not hungry, all you have to
do is say so. I can be dense with women, but even I understand a
‘no’.”

Heavy with irony, his tone only made her feel
lower. Panic attacks with claws could be deadly enough, but she’d
never attacked a friend before. Of course, she’d never had a friend
to attack, and even now, she wasn’t sure that Fallon was one. That
didn’t stop the sickness tearing up her guts, however.

Fallon didn’t need to hear an apology, not
with her bowed shoulders and hidden face shouting it out. A surge
of pity mixed with lingering irritation. Her half-change was
unsettling. Their kind was either-or, not an odd mix of both
states, and by the look on her face as she’d changed she had no
control over it. Maybe that had contributed to her fright. In human
form, Haunt had human senses, except for sharpened hearing. In
Haunt form, they had the keen senses of wolves coupled with
superior strength, speed and agility, though they sacrificed the
power of speech. Rain seemed to be stuck in between, and it had
looked painful.

She didn’t look up as he guided her up the
steps of the citadel and down the stone corridors. Arched windows
let in light, showcasing the parquet flooring and colorful castle
inhabitants. Five minutes of walking brought them to his private
wing and deep into his personal security, security that had been
tightened to protect his ward. Briefly wondering what the guards at
her door thought of his grim expression and Rain’s bowed head, he
took her into her room and walked straight through it, exiting out
into her private pleasure garden. Once there, he released her. “I
find the sunshine calming. I suggest you remain out here until
you’ve settled in.” He accompanied the “suggestion” with a fierce
look and left to attend to the holes in his back.

Rain closed her eyes. Hideously embarrassing,
that emotional display of hers. Bad enough it happened in public,
but she was still tense from seeing the Haunt soldiers. Logic told
her she’d grow calmer around them, but she’d never love them.
Fallon was one of them…

She shivered.

CHAPTER 5

He’d left her in a garden. Walled, roughly
the size of a school bus, it had a winding path that led to a bench
set under a shady fruit tree. A small pool provided a place to
gaze. Pear trees had been trained against the walls, alternating
with a pink flowered vine she couldn’t identify. Flowering bushes
alternated with herbs and mixed flower clusters, providing washes
of color. Well-clipped grass formed a soft carpet between the
flowers and the walls.

With a sigh, she slipped off her shoes and
padded over to the bench. She was still tired from long months of
running, and she’d been too long in the London fog and Alaskan
chill. The sun felt good.

To her surprise, she found brilliant blue and
gold fish swimming in the small pond.

“Pretty,” she murmured. Someone took good
care of this place. From what she’d seen, she figured that Fallon
could probably afford the best help.

As if summoned by her speculation, a young
woman appeared at the door to her apartment. “Mistress?” Her dusky
yellow sarong swayed gracefully as she moved closer, giving a
glimpse of her straw sandals. Her matching, sleeveless top hung
around her neck with a scarlet cord. A sash of the same color
decorated her waist as she paused at the pool. Long dark hair
flowed free to her waist, and she had an enviable tan. “My name is
Malian. Is there anything you would like? A meal, perhaps? The
master said you might be hungry.”

Rain sighed. “How is his back?”

Malian was slow to answer, but returned a
gentle assurance. “He is fine. In two days, the marks will have
healed. But come! The change to the Dark Lands must be difficult.
How may I help?”