Lycans and Legends

Chapter 16: Lions, and Lycans, and Bears, Oh My

When Lionheart and I returned to Abbey House, we stopped by the library where we found Mister Reeves asleep in his chair, a slew of papers spread out in front of him.

“Should we wake him?” I whispered.

“No need, Agent Louvel,” the butler said as he entered the room behind us. “I’ll see to him. May I get the two of you anything?”

Lionheart lifted a bottle and two glasses off the drink cart. “I think we’re settled.”

The butler chuckled. “Very well.”

Lionheart motioned to me, and we headed upstairs to his room. I tiptoed to the adjoining chamber, looking in on Jericho. He was lying with his arms and legs jutting out in different directions, his mouth open wide, and his hat hanging on the bedpost. He had a sweet, peaceful look on his face.

Closing the door, I turned back to Lionheart. He’d set the cups on his dresser and was pouring us both a drink. Taking the glasses, he motioned for me to come sit beside him at the end of his bed. A fire burned in the hearth nearby, casting a cheery glow on the room.

I sat down beside Lionheart and took the cup.

“I was worried about you,” he said. “I could feel something wasn’t right.”

“Thank you for coming for me.”

“That’s the first time I’ve been…between,” he said then took a drink. “Have you ever moved between the worlds before?”

“No. But I have been close to such doorways. The druids tell me that the gates between the worlds are guarded, but this Melwas has an artifact that will allow him to enter our world.”

“What does Melwas want?”

“Everything. But at the moment, he is hunting the other two parts of the artifact. Together, they create a device which opens portals to the Otherworld which will allow all the monsters to come through.”

“That sounds catastrophic. I suppose we’d best head back in the morning.”

“Yes,” I said then took a long drink.

“Any tips on how to find him?”

“A few, but not good ones.”

“Of course,” he said then polished off his drink.

I finished mine as well.

Lionheart reached out for the cup. “Another?”

I shook my head.

Taking the cup from my hand, Lionheart set them on the dresser then turned back to me. Smiling softly, he stroked my hair, pushing stray strands behind my ear.

Pulling the star metal dagger from my belt, I handed it to him. “That dagger killed my parents.”

Lionheart took the dagger, examined it briefly, then set it aside. “We will avenge them. Together. You are not alone anymore, Clemeny.”

He slid back onto the end of the bed then pulled me into his arms.

I looked up at him.

Despite all my anger and frustration, tears began to well in my eyes. “I didn’t expect…this.”

“No,” Lionheart said. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded and brushed the hot tears from my cheeks.

“It makes me so angry. I want to punch the hell out of something.”

Lionheart chuckled softly. “Remind me never to make you angry.”

“You could never make me angry.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“I am sure. In fact, vexing as you are, you have always evoked quite the opposite emotion,” I said.

Lionheart smiled softly at me. “That feeling is very mutual, Little Red.”

Without thinking, I pressed my lips onto his. Both of us fell into the kiss. Months of bottled-up passion spilled over. My hands slid across his back as I slipped onto his lap. At once, I felt his want. It matched my own.

Lionheart took me by the waist and pulled us further back onto the bed.

I kissed him passionately. Feeling emboldened, I unbuttoned his waistcoat and then his shirt, pushing it off him as I drizzled kisses down his neck and chest. Part of me knew I had no business doing what I was about to do. I wasn’t married. It wasn’t proper. I should wait until…until what? We weren’t a normal couple. I could be dead tomorrow. The faerie prince could murder me.

Lionheart slipped his hand up my blouse, stroking my back.

He moved to unbutton my shirt as I reached for the laces on his trousers.

A moment later, however, we heard a scream.

“Clemeny! Sir Richard!”

Jericho.

Half-undressed, the two of us jumped up from the bed and raced to the adjoining bedroom. I snatched my pistol and brandished it in front of me. There, we found the boy sitting in the middle of his bed, a wild but confused expression on his face, his eyes glowing red.

“Jericho. What is it?” Lionheart asked, his voice a hard, protective snarl.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye to see that his face had contorted somewhat into a werewolf.

My pistol raised before me, I scanned around the room.

“I…the bear…where did the man go?” Jericho asked, looking around with a baffled expression on his face.

“Bear? What man?” Lionheart asked.

Jericho looked around the room. “I had a bad dream,” he said with a whimper. His mouth twisted into a hard frown, and he started crying softly.

“It’s all right,” I said, slipping my pistol into my trousers. I went to him. “It was just a dream.”

“I dreamed that Clemeny turned into a bear, and her eyes looked like gaslamps. She was being chased by shadows. We tried to help her, but someone caught us in pens. A man was there. He was going to hurt you, Clemeny. Sir Richard, where is your shirt?”

“Oh,” Lionheart said abashedly. “I was changing for…bed.”

“I’m sorry. It was so scary. Will you…will you both stay with me awhile?”

I looked at Lionheart and smiled softly at him. Both of us swallowed the disappointment that was evident in our expressions.

Lionheart nodded. “Of course.”

“Here, Clemeny,” Jericho told me, patting one side of his bed. “And here, Sir Richard,” he said, patting the other side. “Clemeny, put your pistol away, so you don’t accidentally shoot yourself.”

Jericho settled back down under his covers. Lionheart and I lay beside him—my pistol on the bedside table. Taking our arms, Jericho placed them over his body, our arms on top of one another.

“See. There. That’s better. Now it’s like we’re a family,” Jericho said. “I’m safe here with my family,” he added then sighed and nestled down.

Lying on our sides, Jericho between us, Lionheart and I looked at one another. The weight of his words was heavy on our hearts. Very soon, Jericho fell asleep once more. His breath was deep but soft.

I stared at Lionheart. My eyes became watery, but this time, they were moved with love.

To my surprise, Lionheart’s expression matched my own.

“Will you marry me, Clemeny?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Now I just have to get Grand-mère’s permission.”

I giggled. “Good luck. She’ll make a fuss.”

“You deserve a fuss.”

Jericho sighed in his sleep then whispered, “Shush.”

Lionheart and I both chuckled.

“I love you,” I whispered to Lionheart.

“I love you too,” he whispered in reply, then slowly, the three of us drifted off into a dreamless sleep.