Once, she'd been too feeble. Now? Threat to the max.
For some reason, that made her glance at Puck and--she gasped. He watched her, his stare penetrating and intense. Aggressive, even, as if he had already mentally stripped her.
Shivers danced down her spine. Her panties? Now soaked. "H-how can you be so sure?" she asked, forcing herself to focus on William. Stuttering? Her?
With a glare at Puck, he said, "I'm the total package, darling. Beauty, brains, brawn. And fated."
Fated. Aka "meant to be." Aka "everything happens for a reason." Aka her most reviled idioms.
Yes, she'd once been overjoyed by the idea of belonging to William. Now? "No such thing as fated." Over the centuries, she'd watched couples interact, fascinated by their nuances, how some crumbled at the first sign of trouble and others flourished. "There's attraction and then, if you want to sustain the relationship, there's hard work."
"But what causes the first draw, hmm?" William asked.
"If you're telling me the first draw is fated, then you'll have to tell me why the attraction sometimes fades."
He glowered. Because he had no response.
"Oracles can predict who will end up with whom," Puck said, his tone somewhat sharp.
"Prediction is different from fate," she pointed out.
"Fate is what drives us," William said.
Ugh. He was one of those. People who assigned a supernatural reason to every calamity, or blamed a higher power. And there was a higher power. Absolutely. Gillian's friend Olivia--former friend, she supposed, since they hadn't spoken in over five hundred years--was a Sent One married to Aeron, former keeper of Wrath. Olivia had often spoken about Most High's creation of humans and other beings. But the MH did not cause tragedies. He was the essence of Love. Bad things happened because people were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bad things happened because evil existed. Because good people made bad choices. Because bad people did bad things.
The only reason an adult raped a child--his own sick desires. All that "I couldn't help myself" crap? A lie. Her stephorrors should have resisted temptation. Not that young Gillian should have been any kind of temptation. They made their choices. Them. No one else.
And, okay, say a female cheated on her male. She ruined the love match, not fate. Say a male ventured somewhere he wasn't supposed to go and died. His actions caused his death, not fate.
"Has Keeley or someone else foretold us?" she asked William.
He glowered again. "No. But I'm certain here." He tapped the center of his chest.
A rough sound sprang from Puck.
Continue walking. Tune out husband. "Trust me when I say you don't want to be mine," she said to William. "According to the Oracles, I'll kill my man's dreams, have to choose between what could be and what will be, and never experience a happy ending."
"The Oracles are wrong," he replied. "They probably aren't even certified as Foreknowledge Specialists."
Uh, there was no such thing. Right?
Puck believed the Oracles, no doubt about it. She did too--sometimes, at her lowest. But even still, she remained determined. Her life would be whatever she made it. She would have a happy ending, because she would accept nothing less. She would fight, and fight hard to achieve her goals. Nothing would stop her.
Look how far she'd come already.
"Gillian?" Warm, calloused fingers stroked her jaw. Drugging tingles followed. "You stopped. Why?"
She blinked rapidly, snapping to attention just in time to watch William knock Puck's hand away. Even when her mind had been unaware, her husband had made her body react.
The two men snarled at each other.
Mercy. Who was she supposed to vote for? Beauty or the Beast?
You know who...
Deciding retreat was her best option, she said, "I'll spread the word that you guys aren't to be harmed. Feel free to walk about, look around, whatever you want, but do not hurt anyone. Got it? And do not sleep with my soldiers." If Puck cheated on her...
Teeth clenched, she added, "I'll see you at the feast this evening." Head high, she marched off before anyone could protest.
Won't look back. Absolutely will not. She turned a corner, putting a house between her and the guys, voiding the temptation. Out of sight, out of mind.
Pasting a fake smile on her face, she made a beeline for Rosaleen, a petite beauty with gorgeous brown skin, dark hair and darker eyes. She would be considered flawless, if not for the X branded into her forehead. The mark of her former "master." The cruel brute had ensured his "fillies" could be identified with a single glance, if ever they managed to escape.
"Double the guard around the perimeter," Gillian said. The Walshes would know the Shawazons decimated the outpost, because she'd left her favorite calling card: no survivors. They would attack, and soon. "And ask our best cooks to whip up a feast fit for a queen. Tonight we celebrate the return of my husband and friend."
"Are we adding poison to expedite the end of your marriage? And if so, do you want him to die slow or fast?" Rosaleen asked, totally serious.
"Valid questions." She pretended to think over her response. "No poison. Tomorrow I'm escorting the men to the Connacht fortress. Winter and Cameron are coming with us, I'm sure, which means you and Johanna will be in charge."
Rosaleen nodded. "Be careful. I encountered Sin Connacht only once, but he spooked me for life. There's something seriously off about him."
"We'll defeat him." Failure was not an option.
Avoiding everyone else, Gillian made her way home. A small stone house she'd helped build. She'd never taken an interest in decorating, so the walls remained unpainted. The only personal touches--the weapons she'd hung here, there, everywhere, and the shelf holding jars she'd filled with trophies she'd taken from the most vicious of her victims.
What would Puck and William think of her living quarters?
Out of sight, out of mind, remember?
Through the door--absolute, utter chaos greeted her. Peanut had thrown a fit. He'd shredded her couch, dismantled her kitchen table, and removed a leg from a chair reserved for special guests.
The only thing her pet hadn't ruined was her bed, and only because she slept in a loft upstairs, and he couldn't climb the ladder.
No sign of him inside. With a sigh, she trekked to the backyard. A fence separated her boxed vegetable garden and potted fruit trees from Peanut's barn.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she called.
Though Gillian remained a vegetarian, Peanut required meat. For his sake, she'd learned to hunt, skin and prepare meals that would keep him strong. In fact, she had a ritual. Once a week, she journeyed into the nearest forest on her own, hunted and mourned her kills--because yes, she always named the animals and envisioned a future as best friends.
Animals were awesome; killing them affected her in a way killing people did not. Maybe because most people sucked.
Peanut trotted out of the barn as if he hadn't a care and plopped in the shade offered by the apple tree--grown with magic--where he munched on a fallen fruit.
Well, not all animals were awesome.
He refused to meet her gaze, even turned his head away.
Worse than a toddler, she thought, and stretched out beside him.
He flicked her a glance that said, I'll allow you to pet me. Except, when she reached out to stroke the soft fur behind his ear, his glare said, But only with your gaze.
"I missed you, Nutty Buddy."
He humphed at her.
"I've got to go on another trip tomorrow, and I don't know how long I'll be gone," she admitted.
The apple fell from his mouth and rolled past her thigh.
"Good thing you get to go with me, huh," she added, before he could erupt into another fit. "You just have to be nice to--"
He was on his feet and licking her face before she could finish the sentence. Laughing, she nuzzled her cheek against his neck and wrapped her arms around him. "Tonight, I'll introduce
you to my husband and friend. They'll be coming with us. I'm pretty sure you'll dislike them both."
Out of sight, but not out of mind. Accept it, deal with it.
"Puck is magnificent but terrible, sweet but cruel, kind but unconcerned, intelligent but clueless. He might want me, he might not. With him it's difficult to tell." Either way, her body continued to want his, and she wanted...
She just plain wanted.
Her plan to wait for an official divorce might have been a wee bit hasty. What harm could come from using Puck and taking her pleasure--her due?
After everything he'd put her through, he owed her.
And whether he'd admit it or not, he wanted her, too, and not just because of the bond. He must. The way he'd jumped between her and William...caressed her... The way he'd looked at her... She'd gotten her first lingering glance!
If she dared to encourage Puck--truly encourage him--would he dare to make a move on her?
Well. There was only one way to find out...
22
Puck stayed in the shadows, observing Gillian in her natural habitat, with her pet.