A Curious Twist of Lime Page 8

  “Shall we, milady?”

  He wiggles his eyebrows, and I giggle, forgetting the stupid dress.

  It’s fascinating the way his eyes lighten, turning more gold than brown when he’s happy. I like to think he enjoys my company. Not as much as I enjoy his, of course, but he certainly doesn’t seem to find being around me a chore.

  I wish the other inhabitants of Hearthstone were as easy to please.

  “I was thinking,” I say as he leads me to the door. “You should give me a lesson on decorum here. I don’t know how to properly address anyone—what if I make a dreadful faux pas?”

  “We’re bruins.” Georg’s sidelong look is amused, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “There is no proper address you need to be concerned with in day-to-day life, Alice. Such formalities are only a concern in the court proper.”

  “Oh.” That is disappointing. I was half hoping my troubles starting a conversation were due to some lack of propriety on my part.

  “Is something wrong?” His hand cups my elbow and as always, his touch has my brain going hazy. I put the servants out of my mind. They’re my problem, not his. Besides, I plan on enjoying this outing.

  “No, no, of course not.” I practically drag him to the door.

  He frowns but doesn’t press. The instant we leave my room, Konstantin appears at Georg’s side, giving me a silent nod. The taut muscles under my fingers ripple once, but otherwise, Georg doesn’t acknowledge the other man. I’m curious about their relationship. Konstantin seems to be acting as a bodyguard since we got here, but from Georg’s demeanor, he’s not a welcome one.

  Which begs the question why Georg requires a bodyguard in the first place. I know Georg told me to ask questions, but it’s still an alien concept to me. And by the time I work up the courage, I’m distracted by the sights.

  There’s a lot of them.

  This place is huge. Glimpses of rooms like my own pass by. Actually, most are even grander. Gilt furnishings and intricately worked rugs are everywhere. Candles and marble and fantastic tapestries. I stare at a particularly stunning one with a tall woman dressed all in red, facing an army of bloodthirsty men. She has dark hair like mine and a fierce expression. Her eyes seem to follow me as I step closer, one hand raised.

  “Is that a bruin woman?” I ask faintly, brushing my fingers over the knotted fabric.

  Georg chuckles. “In a matter of speaking. That’s Medeinė, a goddess said to protect the lands about here. She could shift into any forest animal at will, but bears were her favorite. Legend says she saved my people from a human invasion long ago.”

  My eyes widen but he’s already steering me away. A few steps farther and we pause at the threshold of a dark, shadowy room. A fire flickers somewhere deep within, stirring the darkness. When Georg pulls me inside, I get the impression of vast amounts of space and a whiff of a heavenly, familiar smell. Books.

  My hand tightens on his arm as I resist the urge to bounce up and down. “We should have brought a lantern.”

  “There’s no need.” He shuts the door firmly in Konstantin’s face. A second later the room is illuminated with light. It seems to come from everywhere at once. My mouth falls open.

  “How did you do that?” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling, the apparent source of this wonder.

  “Hmm?” He glances back at me, then at the glowing orbs above us. The skin around his eyes crinkles again. “It’s called electricity, Alice.”

  “Is it magic?”

  He laughs. “No. This is something your kind invented. Humans. Look.” He guides my fingers to a small wheel on the wall.

  When I turn it clockwise, the light gets brighter. Counter clockwise and shadows begin to creep in at the edges of the room once again. I spin it back and forth until the effect makes me dizzy, but I can’t stop. It’s like having the power of day and night at my fingertips, an enormous lantern that needs neither flame nor oil.

  Finally, Georg covers my hand with another chuckle. “This is one of the few rooms in Hearthstone so equipped. Samuel is protective of his library. No lanterns allowed and I guess sunlight is bad for the books. The windows are kept heavily curtained and except for the fireplace, the—”

  “Did you say library?” At most, I was hoping for a few shelves, but an honest to goodness library? I turn around and the word gets stuck in my throat.

  Shelves tower everywhere, taller than me, taller than Georg. Rows upon rows of books. Some with gleaming covers, some with tattered ones. Small and large, thick and thin. I wander across a wide circular rug, pressing my fingers to my lips. Fanning out like the spokes of a wheel, the stacks stretch into the distance until my vision blurs.

  With a soft pop, my knees give out and I fold into a heap on the rug in front of the softly glowing fireplace.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Shaking his head, Georg moves next to me. “After everything you’ve been through, fucking books are what’s going to make you cry?” He looks exasperated, but his eyes are soft and golden.

  “Oh. Sorry.” Startled, I bring my hands to my cheeks, but Georg pushes them away, brushing at my tears with his thumbs. I grab his hands. “Thank you.”

  His grin widens. “It’s not my library, but you’re welcome.” He pulls me back to my feet, frowning when I sway. His big arm winds around my waist, tugging me closer. “You sure the walk wasn’t too much for you? We should go back.”

  “No!” I shove away from him. “I’m fine, see?”

  With a laugh, Georg looks down at me. Something about that gaze has me feeling too warm. Yet when he looks at my lips, I stand frozen as he lifts a hand to brush a big thumb over the bottom one. Without conscious thought, the tip of my tongue darts out, tasting my happy tears on his skin.

  His eyes widen, nostrils flaring. “Alice—"

  “How sweet.” Startled, I peek around Georg’s shoulder to see a massive form just inside the doorway. Short, white-blond hair glints in the electric lights. Black eyes find mine and hold.

  I know those eyes. Ducking back behind Georg, I put a hand to my head. There is a thumping there, like distant thunder. It grows louder as he crosses the room.

  “Your pet seems better.”

  Georg turns, staying between me and the other bruin. “Well enough, after what you did.”

  Kolya’s smile flashes, white and cold. “For which I apologized. Formally. In writing.” As he looks at me, his lips twist, turning that smile into something purely malicious. “The human should be grateful.”

  Georg snarls. With one hand on his back, I feel the sound vibrate from his taut muscles to my fingers. Something dark hovers in the air. A shadow that I recognize instantly. Georg’s bear.

  Kolya sees it, too. His pale eyebrows lift.

  Before he can say a word, Georg snarls a single one. “Leave.”

  It is unmistakably a command, one that would have me scurrying from the room in a heartbeat—if my legs weren’t shaking so much. The other man’s eyes widen and he backs up a step before catching himself.

  “As you pointed out, it’s not your library.” He licks his lips. “Not yet.”

  Georg says nothing, but that shadow of his stalks toward the man in the doorway. As the silence stretches, the thumping in my head gets louder. Above us, the magic lights begin flicker.

  Kolya glances up. “Stupid human invention,” he bites out before looking from me to Georg and back again. Without another word, he turns on his heel and vanishes out the door. My breath comes out in a huge whoosh as the lights begin to steady.

  “Well, that was—”

  I glance up to see Georg staring down at me. His eyes aren’t a light and happy gold now, they’re dark and still, almost cold at the edges.

  “Grab a couple books so we can get you back to your rooms, Alice. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

  Shaken by the steely tone—a tone Georg hasn’t used with me since that night in the forest—I rush to the nearest stack and blindly grab the first two
books in reach.

  Moments later, Georg’s hand cups my elbow as we leave the library. This time his touch doesn’t make me warm, but lonelier than ever.

  The one friend I had in this place has shut me out. And I don’t know why.

  8

  “What is this?” Alice sniffs at the glass I set in front of her.

  Despite my illicit reason for being here and the tension left over from our excursion last night, I can’t help but smile at her wide eyes.

  “It’s a special kind of potion called a margarita.”

  She returns my smile with a sweet, almost shy one of her own. The cold weight in my stomach sinks a little deeper. I know I hurt her last night, and what I have planned for tonight isn’t going to make it any better.

  This is bullshit, my bear snarls in my ear. I ignore him. As I have all day.

  Not that it’s been easy. I like her, too.

  It’s impossible not to. Alice is a delight.

  Curious, bright, unfailingly fascinated with anything and everything, like that goddamn dimmer switch in the library. I haven’t let her see my cell phone yet.

  I’m afraid her brain will explode.

  Of course, given what happened in that library, maybe it’s my phone that would explode. I’ve no doubt Alice is tied to the flickering lights; I could feel the energy coming off of her. It was faint, like a static charge in waves, just enough to lift the hair on the back of my arms.

  But enough to tell me the truth. Human or not, Alice was wielding magic.

  Is she a conduit, like Konstantin suspects? I’ve no idea. But that’s why I’m here. I invited Alice to dinner and of course, she accepted. I know she’s lonely, I know how they’ve been treating her, and I used that to my advantage.

  Not exactly gentlemanly behavior. But better this than the formal interrogation that would ensue should I bring my concerns to Samuel.

  So, margaritas it is.

  It wasn’t exactly hard to find the makings here. A servant even produced the proper glasses and salt when they saw me collecting triple sec along with a bottle of Samuel’s best tequila. I can’t afford to ignore my concerns, I tell myself, watching Alice take her first sip and wrinkle her nose.

  The metaphoric vultures are circling Hearthstone. While I consider Kolya the biggest of the bunch, I have to admit the man is well respected. He has taken up the mantle of protector while Samuel has been ill. Then again, I don’t really understand what everyone thinks they need protected from. But there is a strange tension in the castle, everyone looking over their shoulder, whispering and looking at me with both consideration and fear in their wary eyes. The only basis for that fear I can find is that there have been things coming out of the forest lately. A few cubs have been hurt, and an old man was mauled by a winged serpent less than a week ago. I’m starting to see Kolya’s attack on us in a slightly less suspicious light. The man is an asshole, but lots of bruins are assholes. And it’s too much of a coincidence I just left a forest chock-full of unusual monsters. Whoever Alice’s Master is, I’d lay pretty short odds on him being the force Kolya was warned of.

  Question is, is Alice truly his victim, or as Kolya suspects, his Trojan horse?

  My bear growls again, but I ignore him. I can’t afford sentiment. Right now, the throne is down to me and Kolya. My cousin Darla is first in line, but she married an Asgaardian shifter last year. Kolya has a slight edge on the bloodline, putting him ahead of me, but if Samuel names me his heir, as is his right as a childless king, it will bump me to the head of the list

  —dependent on approval by the Elders.

  Samuel and I still haven’t gotten around to that talk, but I’m pretty sure what my answer will be when we do. On one hand, this isn’t my homeland anymore. It’s the homeland of my ancestors. These people and their problems are complex and vastly different than the challenges I faced in the New World. I could be biting off more than I can chew.

  On the other, life is too short to wile it away fighting destiny. Konstantin was right in some ways; I will never stop taking on other people’s problems. Trying to fix things and protect what’s mine is in my nature.

  Just because I chose to leave my title behind in the bloody snow where those werewolves tore me apart doesn’t mean I’m not still a king in every way that matters.

  Not that I’m feeling particularly kingly as the moment.

  “—and does this potion make me grow big or small?” Alice catches my gaze over the pale green liquid, bringing me out of my musings.

  “Neither,” I say shortly.

  That hesitant smile dims. “Then what is the point of your margarita?”

  “To have fun.” I soften my tone, regarding her in the low light of the chamber. She looks well, but I know better.

  Alice is not settling in here. Not that it is her fault.

  She finally has a proper wardrobe. at my insistence and expense. After that first sack-like dress they put her in—which I’m still not convinced wasn’t an actual sack—I bribed Konstantin to find a seamstress who would work with her. I don’t know where he got the woman but the new clothes are a definite improvement. The dress she’s wearing now is lovely. Simple and grass green, it hugs her body to perfection. Those slight curves I’d noticed in Niflheim don’t seem so slight anymore. I should have let them keep her in the damn sack. It might have made this marginally easier.

  Court is like an endless game of chess, fascinating if you’ve the will to play it. It can also be petty and cruel. But if I was set up to bring Alice here—with her knowledge or not—I need to know why.

  I lift my glass. “It tastes good once you get used to it. Try some more.”

  “All right, but only because I trust you.”

  Unaware of how her words twist the knife, Alice lifts the wide glass in both hands and puts her lips to the rim. Her blue-black hair is gathered up in a complicated swirl at the top of her head. Soft tendrils escape here and there, brushing her porcelain skin and putting thoughts in my head I have no business thinking.

  But as she swallows the pale green liquid, I fight the urge to tug at my collar. It’s already unbuttoned, but everything feels tight. My conscience, my breathing and my goddamn pants. I shift my hips and drain half my own glass.

  “You’ve had a hard day,” she observes.

  “I had a busy day,” I correct with a cough, resisting the urge to adjust myself. “Samuel has me looking into some things while I’m here.”

  She regards me silently. She knows Samuel is the king. He even came to her bedchamber to introduce himself a few days after we arrived. “He trusts you.” Again, not a question. She may have lived an isolated existence, but it’s made her powers of observation far keener than most humans.

  “He does.”

  “And what about Kolya?” Her fingertip traces the stem of her glass. “Does the king trust him as well?”

  I lift an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  She leans back in her chair. “I think bruins are complicated. That’s what I think.”

  I laugh and lean forward. “Not really. All you have to know about bruins is this—we’re self-righteous, demanding, not to mention possessive asshats.”

  Her lips curve. “Is that why Kolya hates you—because he’s possessive of Hearthstone and his role here?”

  Clever girl.

  “He hates me because we’re two very different people,” I say. “Kolya always thought he was better suited…for everything than me.”

  “Because he outranks you?”

  I look at the glass in front of me. “Not exactly.”

  “He’s a count. He has to outrank you.” She laughs lightly. “Unless you’re a king.”

  I lift my eyes to hers, saying nothing.

  She blinks, then blinks again before her mouth falls open in a little O. “You’re not serious.”

  “More of an ex-king, really.” I shrug.

  Her jaw drops. “Did you abdicate?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “
Then how can you be an ex-king?”

  “He died.”

  I didn’t hear Konstantin open the door. He sets our food on the table before bowing himself out with a lifted eyebrow. Alice may not know what I’m about, but it’s clear the mercenary does. I get in a glare before he shuts the door.

  When I glance back at Alice, I’m shocked to see how pale she is. “You died?” she whispers. “How?”

  Her fingers tremble on the tablecloth and I resist the urge to cover them with my own.

  “You don’t want to know.” I say shortly.

  “No, I’m sure I don’t.” She presses her lips together, refusing to meet my eyes. There is a heavy beat of silence, then Alice grabs her glass and drains it.

  All of it. Probably what amounts to a full quart of damn strong margarita.

  Well, fuck.

  A half hour later, my plan is working perfectly, even if I don’t give a shit about the plan anymore.

  Alice is sloshed, adorably so. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are bright, and she has answered every single question I put to her without hesitation.

  I’m disgusted with myself and my bear is a coldly furious weight in my chest.

  “The potions last how long exactly?” While I no longer think Alice herself is any sort of a threat, I am still curious as to what she is. Because Alice doesn’t seem to realize she has any sort of powers at all.

  A tipsy shrug. “Not long. You saw. Never more than ten, twenty minutes.”

  I ask her to bring me one of the flasks from her bedroom and she does, swaying slightly. I help her back to the table and take the bottle from her hand.

  One sniff and I know exactly what this is. Moonshine. Gnome moonshine. Watered down, yes, but just moonshine.

  There is no magic in moonshine, despite what those little bastards might claim. I sit back in my chair, considering. Maybe this is like . . . what do humans call it?

  A placebo.

  This Master told her what each bottle does and how long it lasts. Alice must have accepted those limits while she was still too young to question.

  “Do you remember anything before you came to Niflheim?” I ask, handing the bottle back to her.