“Hello,” the man said, smiling broadly when I looked at him. He had kind of a singsong accent, something I hadn’t heard before. It sounded almost English, but wasn’t quite. It was a nice voice—not as intriguing as Ben’s, but nice. The rest of him wasn’t bad, either. He had a squared chin with a little cleft in it, very pale blue eyes, like polar ice, and reddish blond hair that made me think of the word “russet.”
“Hi. Are you the one who put a bag over my head and drugged me?”
“Yes.” He grimaced a little. “Well, it was a blanket, but yes, that was me.”
“Ah. Gotcha.” I made a fist and slammed it into his nose.
He fell over backward with a squawk. Ben, who quickly righted me when I tipped over from the momentum of punching the man, laughed loudly. “I told you she wouldn’t take kindly to that sort of treatment.”
The man sat up, gingerly feeling his nose, his eyes crossing as he tried to look at it. “Next time I’ll take your word for that. I’m sorry if you’re feeling any after-effects of the chloroform, Fran. I assumed that since you were a Beloved, you wouldn’t suffer any of the normal unpleasantries that mortals might.”
“Well, I’m not a Beloved, so don’t do it again. Who are you?” I asked, taking advantage of my wobbliness to lean into Ben.
“Benedikt’s blood brother. And I’m delighted to meet you at last. He talked about nothing else for so long, I was beginning to think he was mad. But now I see why he did so.”
“You’re . . . uh . . . Daffy?” I asked, racking my brain for his name.
Ben laughed even harder as the other man pulled a face. “David Kneath, actually.”
“I’m sorry.” I rubbed my forehead. “I could have sworn Ben wrote me an e-mail about you and your name was Daffy. I must be punchier than I thought.”
“It’s spelled Daffyd, but pronounced ‘dav-ith’ actually. I’m Welsh, you see.”
I didn’t see what that had to do with anything, but nodded.
“If it makes it easier, just call me David. Most people do.”
“Thanks. Would you mind terribly me asking why you kidnapped and drugged me? And where we are? And what you’re doing here?” The last question was asked of Ben.
“I told you that the secrets I had were not mine to share. They’re David’s,” Ben answered, his voice seeming to skitter along my skin. I shivered and rubbed my arm, trying to pull my mind from all sorts of thoughts about Ben so I could focus on what was important.
You’re going to make it difficult for me to court you if you think those sorts of thoughts.
I told you the idea of courting is outdated. I don’t want some grand, epic love story sort of saga, Ben. I just want . . .
You want to fall in love with me.
Yes. No. Both. I just want to know if I want to be with you because I’m in love with you, or just programmed to be with you.
I understand. But it’s still going to make it difficult for me to restrain myself from making love to you if you think about doing all those things you’re thinking about doing with your tongue.
I’m a modern woman, Ben. I can actually have sex without being head over heels in love with a man.
His eyebrows rose.
That didn’t quite come out the way I hoped it would, I admitted, feeling pretty trashy. I just meant that I like you well enough to have sex without formally declaring that yes indeedy, you are Mr. Right Forever. And while we’re on the subject, stop eavesdropping on my smutty thoughts about you.
I can’t help it. You’re sharing them with me.
No, I’m not. I have made very sure to keep secret all those fantasies about licking you, and nibbling on your chest, and touching your . . . Gah! Now you’re putting thoughts into my head!
He chuckled.
David shot him a startled look.
“My apologies. Continue, David.”
“Benedikt told me that you’d come here to Join with him, but the work he’s doing for me has interfered with that,” David said slowly, his face suddenly grim.
You told him that?
I thought it was best.
Well, you can just straighten him out on the subject!
I will if it becomes important.
David sat down next to me, his elbows on his knees as he looked out into the gathering night. “There are not enough ways to apologize for messing up what should have been something wonderful between you, so instead of even trying, I’m going to explain to you what’s going on.” He glanced over at Ben. “People’s lives are at stake, Fran, so I’m going to ask you not to repeat anything we say here.”
“Of course I won’t, not if it’s that important.” He looks sad, Ben.
There has been much tragedy in his life the last few years.
Is he the reason you disappeared those couple of times?
Yes.
“Benedikt has been assisting me the past six years to uncover who is behind the disappearances of my pride members. It took us until this year to finally pinpoint the group we believed was behind it all, and Benedikt, in an attempt to infiltrate the Agrippans, connected with Naomi. He got her a job at the Faire, since he knew that would give him a cover to travel with her.”
“Wait a second. Did you say pride members? Like gay pride?”
David looked from me to Ben. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?”
Ben shook his head. “No. You swore me to secrecy, if you recall.”
“Tell me what?”
“That’s right, I did. Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”
“Someone better tell me, before Mr. Punchy Hand gets annoyed,” I said with a narrow-eyed look that I split between them.
“David is a therion,” Ben said, just like that explained everything.
“Bully for him. What’s a therion?”
David laughed and stood up. “I think in this case, seeing is believing.”
My eyes widened as his body did an odd sort of shimmer, rippling and twisting until it turned into a sandy cinnamon-colored lion, an honest-to-Pete lion, complete with big brown mane, pale light blue eyes, and what I assumed were exceptionally big teeth.
“Goddess above,” I said, my eyes almost bugging out at the sight of the lion as it turned and faced me. “That’s a . . . that’s a . . .”
“A lion, yes,” David said as the lion form shimmered back into that of a man. A naked man.
Stop ogling him.
I’m not. But . . . holy crickets. He’s naked.
You are ogling. I wish for it to stop.
I’m trying, I’m trying. Oh man! My eyes widened further as David nonchalantly bent to retrieve his pants.
If you wish to ogle someone, you may ogle me.
Yeah? Think Naomi would let me?
He was silent, but I could feel his irritation.
David buttoned up his shirt and gave me a rueful smile as he sat down again. “A therion is a shape-shifter with two primary forms. One of mine happens to be that of an Asiatic lion.”
“You’re like a werewolf, but with a lion instead of a wolf?” I asked, then craned my head to look behind me, where the moon was beginning to clear the horizon. “Is it a full moon?”
“Therions can shift at will, Francesca,” Ben said, taking my hand and rubbing his fingers across mine. It was a possessive move that I knew had its origins in the eye candy David had provided. I smiled to myself. “The myth about the full moon is a human fiction, nothing more.”