Not My Fantasy Page 20

  “Not collected by me thankfully,” he said, his paw instinctively going to his nose. “A bloke from the estate here was at the pub a while ago selling the horrible things. The magician’s guild in town doesn’t like stuff from the citadel, says they’re too tainted by the curse to risk—”

  “Hey, we’ve sold some of them!”

  “I had a hedgewitch look ‘em over before I sold ‘em. Have you had any complaints?”

  “No . . .”

  “There you go then. I look after me customers. I’d go broke if I didn’t.”

  “Looking at the harpy flocks, Lady McKinnon?” I turned in the boat to see that Tess’s boat had drawn alongside us. I felt a pang of revulsion when I saw Tess and the prince tucked up together on the pile of cushions.

  “Mr Natty was telling me all about the unfortunate creatures. They sound quite nasty.”

  “Yes, but bloody good hunting and can be quite tasty if prepared correctly,” the prince said. “I’ll take the two of you shooting sometime.”

  “Uh, OK. Sounds great,” I mumbled. I knew, academically, a lot of my food came from killing animals, but like most city people, I preferred to be as far away from the process as possible.

  “What is a harpy, Your Highness?” Tess asked.

  “A revolting beast. The wings and claws of a bird, with these terrible humanoid faces and torsos. They reek to the heavens and have these gigantic, juddering, mammary glands,” the prince used his hands to indicate they had big tits, “quite vile.”

  “So, they have the head and torsos of human women?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Yes! Positively . . .” The prince had been about to launch into a more detailed description of how disgusting the humanoid birds were when he finally remembered who his audience was. He dropped his hands into his lap suddenly and sat up straighter. “They are quite the pest and it’s past time we thinned the numbers. I’ll speak to Captain Mellors and organise the trip. Now Lady Pendragon, are you comfortable? Would you like some wine?”

  We took this as a sign to move our boat away, Gabe guiding us further out into the lake. I looked over my shoulder and saw the two of them laughing and drinking together. Well, there was no apparent danger right then, so I settled back.

  I tried to relax, just enjoy the very odd experience of boating in an alien realm but found it difficult. Gabe was really beginning to sweat; I watched him labour over pushing us aimlessly around a lake and felt bad. I was a bad girlfriend. I stood by my reluctance around the tattoo, but it had hurt him. The sex we’d had the other day felt like it was the makeup sex you have after the argument, but we hadn’t actually had the argument, and therefore, the issue still hung between us, unspoken. I’d lied to him, went to bed with him thinking he was a fictional character. I’d lied about the shop, Natty. . . . Are we going to survive this? I thought, a cold knife sliding into my belly. Is he going to still want to be with me after watching me flirt with the prince until we got Tess home? I began to ruminate on the probability of my relationship staying intact right up until the prince decided it was my turn to share him.

  “You are looking quite pensive, Lady McKinnon. Perhaps I should spend some time in your boat,” the prince said. Not waiting for an answer, our boats were brought together. He leapt from one craft to the other with ease, turning his eye to Natty. “You will go to Lady Pendragon’s craft. You may serve her some food from the basket and wine if she requires it, but if you speak to her, with the exception of when spoken to, I’ll have you removed back to the city. I needn’t remind you of the inappropriateness of having one of you on a royal outing?”

  “No, sire,” Natty said blandly, ears laid flat to his skull.

  I watched him go, hating the slump in his shoulders now as he delicately hopped across to the other boat and sat down in a tight ball, as far away from Tess as he could. “Now, Lady McKinnon, I’m sure you’ve been longing for some more scintillating conversation. More wine?”

  I’d been afraid he’d want to cosy up with me like he had Tess, but instead, he reclined elegantly across the seat Natty had occupied, wearing a fine white shirt open at the neck, trousers that had been pressed just so. He looked both effortlessly casual and moneyed all at the same time. It became apparent that he’d taken that seat so as to rake his eyes along my body, letting them linger at the parts that pleased him, his eyes heavily lidded. I accepted a flute of white wine as much because it gave me something else to focus on.

  “So, Lady McKinnon, you’ve never actually told me the real reason you’ve come to the citadel. Your ruse, for Lady Pendragon’s sake, was welcome, but I remain at a loss why such a beautiful woman would cross my poor realm to reach me with so little in the way of protection.”

  “My father heard of your plight from our plane and decided to send me to you, to see if a love match could be made. He has many daughters and finding dowries for all of them is tedious. This way if we are a match, you will have your country back and I will have a titled husband. It seemed a natural fit for his problem.”

  “And how do you feel about this?” he asked, a slight smirk spreading across his face. “You realise you will be tied to a man that is not human.”

  “Like many women, my father expects me to marry for position, not preference.”

  His smile widened to something lazier. “But milady, for this to be possible, love must be present.”

  I took a deep breath and let it settle in my chest. It is an unfortunate consequence of being a woman in my world that many of us tend to learn how to lie quite effectively. Feminine rage, disinterest and dislike can, not most of the time, but can be met with extremes of anger or even violence. I’d been screamed at, called everything from a slut to frigid, poked, shoved and even had fists waved in my face because I dared to tell the man I was standing with I wasn’t interested in him. Men that had taken it upon themselves to approach me. Other women have faced much greater consequences. As a matter of self-preservation, we learn the art of skirting conflict, of managing some men so as to not provoke their fragile egos into dangerous displays. This wasn’t all or even most men, though many times I’d fallen into the trap of doing it, just in case they were 'that guy’. Any man who counted himself as part of my inner circle wouldn’t be staying there long if he started that shit, but out in the big, bad world, I freely admit to judicious use of lying to avoid dickheads getting in my face. So, like many women, I could pull back all that was me: my personality, my thoughts and my feelings about things and hold them in a hard little kernel, deep inside myself for long enough to produce some face-saving lie to get me out of this situation as quickly as I could. I activated that mechanism now.

  My face settled into the soft, low-lidded expression of receptiveness. I prolonged our gaze without staring. I smiled slightly, hopefully mysteriously and not like a baby with gas and then said, “My mother has often told me that love can come from necessity. I choose to believe that is possible in this case.”

  “Do you, indeed?” he asked with a purr. He picked my foot up from where it lay against the bottom of the boat and shifted, so it settled in his lap. He plucked the shoelaces free, with some difficulty initially, as if he didn’t quite understand how human fingers worked and then pulled my boots off. Thank God I hadn’t worn my old Converse. Pretty sure stinky shoes would have killed any kind of mood he was trying to create. After he’d removed my shoe, he rubbed a thumb along the arch of my foot and said, “Some former acquaintances of mine have said human women appreciate this?”

  “Oh, yes,” I simpered, though for just a second my eyes flicked to Gabe, who had brought the boat to a standstill. I thought it had been for mere moments, but the prince turned to look at a panting Gabe and back at me.

  “This one seems to get your attention more than your other men,” he said as he began to massage my foot. “Why is that?”

  “You thought me a virgin?” I said. “I’m sorry, but in that area, I am a disappointment. My father does not mind, as long as no children come o
f it, he sees it as part of my education.”

  “And are you?” the prince asked as his thumbs dug into my muscles in long sure strokes. “Well-educated, I mean.”

  “I would need to know the measure by which I am judged here,” I said, fighting the urge to shift back in the pillows, away from the prince’s burning gaze. “What is well-educated here may be . . . over or undereducated in other realms.”

  “I agree, but standards of what we speak of are difficult to articulate. Perhaps a demonstration, a mutual demonstration is in order.”

  “Perhaps.”

  The prince turned to Gabe, “Swap with the other man, you will keep your distance from your lady for the duration of her visit, or you will find yourself the main course for dinner.”

  Gabe’s face was like a stone as he turned. Inside my head, I screamed for him to keep a low profile, play along, just until Tess was safe. He merely nodded and then moved from boat to boat, Flea soon appearing at the bow of ours. “Take us away from Lady Pendragon’s boat,” the prince said, “I feel the need for solitude.”

  I’m not sure what he thought he was doing. As was well-argued in Pulp Fiction, foot massages don’t mean nothing and unless Flea poled the boat across the lake, up the road and all the way into our bedroom, Tess was going to be able to see what he was up to. Maybe this was all part of his plan, to try and play us off each other. “I find the atmosphere now much more pleasing, don’t you think?” the prince asked as we pulled away from the other boat.

  “Very much so, Your Highness, but I fear I cannot enjoy it. I forgot to bring a hat with me and am starting to get a terrible headache. I really must return to my room and take a nap, or I will be in an awful state later. Do you mind awfully if I go? I’m sure Lady Pendragon would love the opportunity to spend more time with you.” My foot was dropped unceremoniously. He pulled back and wiped his hands on his trousers.

  “Well, if you feel you must, you must. You’ll leave the blond one here. This Flea can take you back in one of the carriages.”

  “Of course, Your Highness. You are too kind,” I said. A lump grew in my throat as we rejoined Tess’s boat and Natty was deposited back in ours. I looked through my lashes at Gabe, all of a sudden worried whether he would return from this trip. Once Flea had us halfway towards the shore, I said, “Gabe will be OK, right? He has a weapon on him?”

  “Gabe would put the prick on his arse the moment he tried something,” Flea said in a low voice, “Don’t you worry about that. It’s Tess we’ve got to worry about.”

  “I know, I just didn’t know what else to do. I need to keep the bastard interested, without having to actually follow through.”

  “I’m going to try and talk to Tess again,” Flea said, “later tonight. She can have all the freedom she likes, once we get out of this bloody place.”

  30

  I left the room quickly, giving the corridors a quick scan and then ran back to my room. Well, that was the plan anyway. I got almost all of the way there, thankfully having slowed down as I came around the corner to my room, before running into the prince himself. “Lady McKinnon! I must say I am surprised to see you up and about, with your ‘terrible headache’ and all.” He ran his eyes down my body slowly, scanning every little bit, smiling slightly as he did so. Beside him stood the Captain who had brought us here, Mellors and one of his other officers, who looked much less happy to see me.

  “I went to see Lady Pendragon, as I did not have any medicine with me to help with the headache.”

  “Well, I have an excellent remedy for headaches back in my room. Come along.” He turned as if expecting me to follow like a good little dog, only turning when it became evident I wasn’t. He frowned and said, “I have made a request, Lady McKinnon.”

  “One I must respectfully decline. In my world, an unmarried woman does not enter the room of an eligible man.”

  “Yet you sleep next to three of them in your suite. Spare me the quibbling. I have yet to take my pleasure from this body with a sentient human and would very much like to compare the sensation of intercourse in this form against my rightful one. You are no weeping virgin like Lady Pendragon, so this may even prove pleasant for you, too.”

  “No.”

  His eyebrows shot up, “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said no. I came here in good faith, to see if a connection could be made between us . . .”

  “A connection will be made, between my . . .” he searched for the word and then gestured to his groin.

  “Penis, sire.”

  “Is that the term for it? How odd. Well, as I was saying, a connection between my penis and your . . . whatever it’s called. Perhaps several of your whatevers.”

  “No.”

  “One does not say no to the Crown Prince of–”

  “Back away from the lady.”

  I turned to see Gabe standing in the hallway, gun drawn and aimed at the back of the prince’s head. My eyes went wide as a dizzying array of emotions rushed through me. Pride that he would stand up for me like this, fear about the consequences and . . . love, I guess. Not in love, I wouldn’t even know how that felt. The tears begin to collect at the corners of my eyes, watching Mellors’ hand shift to his sword. “Gabe!”

  He was one step ahead of me, shooting a hole in the ceiling just above Mellors, forcing the wolf man to flinch back and away from the explosion of plaster. “What the hell is that thing?” the prince growled. “And how dare you draw a weapon in the presence of your prince?”

  “Not my fucking prince, mate.”

  “No, but I assume you want your ‘lady’ in one piece,” Mellors said, drawing his sword and stepping forward, so the blade came to rest, hovering by my throat. I went to take a step, but Mellors said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “Mellors, did you search the men?”

  “Yes, sire, but I’d never seen a weapon of its like before.”

  “An oversight, indeed. One that will be rectified.”

  “Of course, sire.”

  “Put the sword down,” Gabe said, “I can blow out your master’s brains in a matter of seconds.”

  “It will take me slightly longer, but I will skewer your doxy. Her death will be prolonged and much more painful. An unfortunate side effect,” Mellors said, watching Gabe implacably. “Your arm is already starting to shake, whereas mine will stay perfectly still for quite some time. We train for every eventuality, you see.”

  “Gabe . . .,” I said, my voice starting to break up. The very sharp point was now resting on my collarbone, the steel a cold, hard presence. The site stung as the blade bit down, a trickle of blood making its way down my chest.

  “Fuck!” he swore, putting the gun down. I was shoved backwards onto the floor in one moment, the sword blessedly dropped, in the next, Mellors was on Gabe, wrenching the gun from his hands and yanking his arm behind his back.

  “Gabe!” I cried out as he was led away.

  “So, I was correct, you do have feelings for that filthy monkey!” the prince said with a snarl. The expression was odd on his face, more at home on that of an animal. “Mellors, have the girl taken to my room after you’ve dispatched that thing. This little interchange was quite stimulating.”

  “Of course, sire, though keeping the beast alive, restrained, may be just the key you need to ensure compliance from the girl.”

  “An impertinent suggestion, Mellors, but a good one. Remove all weapons and keep him locked up in the abattoir. Do make sure the butchers know he’s not meat, yet.”

  They went through our rooms and we all had to stand there very quietly as they pulled out every weapon we’d brought with us, and some other random items besides. They couldn’t decide if a decorative belt buckle was a weapon or not. I managed to convince them that the packet of tampons was not some form of bullets, though their furry faces creased up in expressions of confusion when I explained what they were actually used for. We watched them sort through our gear with a weird dullness. It was as if by t
aking Gabe away and doing God knows what to him, all of our mental capacity went with him. When Mellors turned to me and said, “You need to come with us, ‘Lady’ McKinnon,” I just went.

  I walked down the hallways to the prince’s private residence, quietly cataloguing my failures: that I hadn’t anticipated Tess going through the portal; that I’d assumed that she would just come with me the minute I saw her; that she still didn’t know she was a potential menu item; that I’d brought Gabe, Flea and Natty into danger; that the prince would try to drown Gabe; or that we were currently trapped in a house full of highly competent soldiers who ate the likes of us for dinner most days. By the time I arrived at the prince’s massive gilt double doors, my head was hanging, my shoulders hunched over. I just looked at the doors, they looked so pretty and innocuous; not giving a hint of what was undoubtedly going to happen once I entered them. Will I survive this? I thought. I wasn’t exactly sure how a rape went, especially with a creature that liked the taste of my flesh as food as much as to fuck. Would he want to cuddle after, or rip my throat out? Would they look after Tess if they killed me because she was their only remaining option? Or would they make short work of both of us and then find another poor sap? “Get inside,” Mellors said, baring all of his very sharp white teeth. I pushed open the doors and did as I was told.

  Gold was a big feature of the decor. Plush carpet covered the floors, paintings of varying sizes in heavy gold frames were present on every wall as well as gilt cornices and architraves. There was even a red runner leading up to a massive bed, situated on top of an ornately carved platform, a post rising at each corner. “Ah, you’re here, finally,” the prince said, coming out of the ensuite, towel wrapped around his hips. His body was as I expected, a long, lean masterpiece in muscles. He saw my eyes shift over his body, though obviously missing the dispassion there. Then he dropped the towel.

  I began to laugh. Totally inappropriate, I half expected him to start shouting “Off with her head!” but I couldn’t help it. He just dropped trou, exposing a bloody big erection that should have had me scrabbling back in horror. Instead, I just laughed. Will he knot like a dog? I wondered. Will he make that dog face, tongue hanging out and eyes bugging like they always had in old cartoons? He started to lose his boner, which only made me laugh more. He was going to hold me down, after I’d done my best to fight him off, and rape me, but all I could do was fall to my knees and laugh and laugh and laugh. Finally, I felt iron fingers dig into my neck, hauling me upright, his angry face a blur through my tear-stained eyes.