Shana Abe Read Free

Kincardine won’t have her.…”
    That savage Kincardine, indeed. Avalon took another sip of the mead and smiled determinedly at no one in particular.
    That damned betrothal had taken her life and twisted it to suit the needs of a few power-hungry men, kings and barons and lairds. As long as she had lived Avalon had been betrothed; it had haunted her and protected her and sealed her destiny as surely as only the stamp of fate could. So naturally she had to do all that she could to break it.
    Avalon had told no one of her own plans for her future, nor would she. Like a magic secret, she half feared that even to say the words out loud would spoil the dream. She kept these thoughts to herself.
    The room was rapidly growing hot, too many people now, some of them dancing, even singing as the wine and mead made tongues looser. Another couple came by too close, shoving her unexpectedly, making her nearly spill her drink. They did not apologize.
    Enough. Avalon handed off her goblet to a serf, found the main door, and slipped past the guards to the antechamber, which retained the coolness of the night. It was much less crowded out here, most of the benches and chairs were empty.
    She found a cushioned bench by a bower window, close enough to allow a curling breeze to wind around her face and hair, her shoulders, cooling off the anger until it was nothing more than her usual faint resignation. She looked around, seeing only shadows and dark corners, then leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.
    “How did you know?”
    Nicholas Latimer loomed over her, then quickly sat beside her on the bench. He took her arms and held them tightly, his breath heavy on her startled face.
    “Tell me how you knew about the dreams,” he demanded.
    Avalon looked around but this section of the room was deserted, offering no help. She backed as far away from him on the bench as she could, striking his hands off of her.
    “It is obvious,” she said bitingly. “Leave me alone.”
    He moved to hold her again, and she stood and whirled away. A couple across the room saw the abrupt movement; they stared over at her. Latimer leapt up to follow, then boldly blocked her way. She could not sidestep him now without causing a scene. For Maribel’s sake she stood where she was.
    “You are a witch, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice filled with derision and fear. “You are. You came here and you cast a spell on me, didn’t you? You came with your hair and your eyes, you looked so fair. You tempt honest men with your face, you torture me, you make me feel these things, hot nights—”
    “Don’t be a fool,” she snapped.
    The couple was still watching, joined by two more.
    “You would lie with the devil before you lie with me, wouldn’t you? And you think you will! You think you will lie with Marcus Kincardine, that he’s going to come back from that crusade of his and claim you. But he’s been gone so long, hasn’t he, witch? Why wait for a barbarian Scot when you could lie with me?” Latimer stepped closer, too close, and there was danger in his look, a sense of crossing some line. “Lie with me,” he said again slowly, hoarse and lost in himself.
    Look
, invited the chimera, a second danger,
see.
…
    Against her will she was caught for a moment in Latimer’s mind. His intensity drew her in in that old familiar way she dreaded; the feelings sweeping over her, the dizzying contact. The cursed chimera in her taking over, opening the gate—
    Look.…
    And what she felt from him was a deep longing, fear and more longing. Shame. She tried to block the shiftingimages that filled him, a woman dressed only in sheets, a man on top of her, doing things to her, and Avalon saw that the woman was herself, and he was the man … and these images became blended with something else, something darker, smoke and flesh and food, a bitter taste, he was ashamed of this, that it consumed him.…
    Lips, darkness,