AN: I come to you grovelling miserably, because it's been an inexcusable amount of time since I last updated. I don't even want to do the math. This story has constantly been in the back of my mind, but things like work, school, and sleep keep getting in the way. So here I am, feeling very sheepish, with an update. I hope it sounds believable and in character and all that, though there's sure to be a little discrepancy seeing as I haven't read the books since February. So forgive me if I'm a little off. I doubt it'll be worth the wait, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)
A huge thank you to all my wonderful, beautiful, amazing reviewers…you guys are the greatest. Please continue to let me know what you think! (my nice, polite way of begging for reviews, lol)
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Felicity listens patiently as I tell her what I know about Lenora's ordeal. I can see the wheels turning in her head as I speak, and I pray that she's working up a plan for us. Sure enough, she springs into action the moment I conclude the tale.
"Do you know, I'm beginning to think it's high time we paid Ann a visit. My aunt and uncle own a summer home in Brighton, and I'm certain they'll allow us to stay there, but –"
"Not without an escort," I finish for her, hopes sinking a little. "That necessary evil."
We are both silent for a moment, mulling over what is to be done about an escort. Suddenly, Felicity's head comes up. "How utterly foolish of us! We've forgotten all about Lady Courtenay. Surely she will accompany us?"
"Yes, of course," I agree, my tense muscles slackening as a plan begins to take shape in my mind. "The Charitable Ladies are holding a whist drive two weeks from now to benefit army widows or something like that. My grandmother will be more than thrilled if I took an interest in volunteering. If Lenora agrees to come, Grandmama cannot possibly refuse."
"Perfect, then it's settled. I will arrange for us to stay at Firle and you will inform Lady Courtenay of our scheme. Send word when everything is in place," says Felicity, her pale eyes lit with excitement. I am also having trouble containing myself; the thought of the three of us being together again, without Mrs. Nightwing, Grandmama, or Tom hovering over us, is nothing short of thrilling. It makes the idea of assuming my role as Most High much easier to swallow. Allies. I might be the keeper of all the magic in the Realms, but without my friends I am meaningless.
Grandmama sends me to bed the moment Felicity leaves, claiming that I've been yawning excessively, and I don't get a chance to mention the whist drive to her. I have no energy to argue, and once Catherine undoes my laces, I fall into bed without even bothering to change into a night rail. I drag myself up to put the candle out, but before I can, I hear a rustle that most definitely is not the wind.
"Gemma," I hear a low hiss from the other side of my bed, and Kartik's hand claps over my mouth just in time to contain my startled screech. I wrench away from him and snatch my bed linens up to my chin.
"What in blazes are you doing here?" I whisper fiercely, glaring at him in disbelief as my face grows hot with embarrassment. Of all the nerve, to sneak into my bedchamber! Then again, I think wearily, it is a trick he's pulled before.
"Looking after you, as usual. I overheard you and the blonde one. What is this nonsense the two of you are plotting?" He demands firmly, as if I am the intruder in his home. I leap furiously out of bed, swiftly tugging my dressing gown over my sheer chemise, completely mortified.
"You, sir, are a boor," I grind out angrily, my fists clenched into tight balls at my hips. "How dare you presume –"
"Gemma, honestly," he cuts across, clearly having no patience for decorum. "Our lips have met in a gypsy camp, in your grandmother's stable yard, and in a whorehouse. Must you continue to insist on modesty even when we're alone?"
My jaw drops at his bold words. So much for pretending those kisses didn't happen. "You speak as if we're secret lovers," I grumble ill naturedly, pulling my gown more firmly around myself as I glare at him. "When that is surely the farthest thing from the truth."
If my words have stung him, he gives no outward sign. He simply smiles brashly, sitting presumptuously on my bed.
"Were you going to tell me?" he asks, ignoring the rage that continues to contort my features.
"About what?" I demand, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Running off to Brighton."
"Of course I was. It would have been a trick indeed, seeing as you're so difficult to get a hold of these days. But yes, I planned to tell you, and no, I was not going behind your back. The whist drive is not for two more weeks, Kartik. Now if that is all you were after – "
"It isn't," he interrupts again, holding my gaze with a new, unreadable look in his eyes. There is a long pause before he continues. "I want you to take me there."
I look at him strangely. "To Brighton? Can't you get yourself there?"
"Not to Brighton," he says softly, and I realize with a gasp of shock where he means.
"The Realms?" I venture cautiously, hardly believing my own ears. He gives me one firm nod, and I can see in his eyes how difficult it is for him to ask for this. All of his life he has been told that the Realms are forbidden to him, and to go there now is to officially declare his separation from the Rakshana. I bite my lip, his eyes conveying his struggle so vividly that I can nearly feel it myself.
"I'm ready," he states simply. His eyes hold mine captive, daring me to deny him. Instead, I reach out.
"Give me your hands," I command softly. He obeys, his hands firm and warm as his fingers clasp mine.
I take a moment's pause, swallowing, realizing that this is the first time I've tried to enter the Realms in quite some time. Not only that, but it is the first time I've ever attempted to bring a man in. And not just a man, but also a member of the Rakshana. Could I still somehow be refused entry, regardless of my new power? The thought of failing Kartik now, when he had finally reached out, was unimaginable. This was going to work.
"Did it – " Kartik starts, growing impatient.
"Hush!" I silence him, taking his hands more firmly in mine. I shut my eyes tight and concentrate fiercely, clinging to Kartik's fingers tighter than is probably necessary.
I open my eyes, and there's the door. It gleams brilliantly in the dimness of my room, and I tell Kartik to open his eyes.
He lets out a soft gasp of surprise, reaching up to touch the impossible door of light.
"This way," I instruct, only releasing one of his hands in order to enter.
The garden is pristine, colourful and thriving just as paradise ought to be. I look over at Kartik, who keeps a firm grip on my hand. "Just as I dreamed it," he whispers breathlessly. "Amazing."
"You've dreamed of this place?" I ask curiously, looking up at him. An inexplicable blush fills his dark face, and he refuses to meet my eyes.
"I once dreamed that you brought me here, to this garden. We were in that meadow over there, and I remember you threatening to make the mud smell like flowers. Stupid, really," he mutters, looking as if he regrets mentioning it.
It's my turn to blush as I stare slack-jawed at the ground. "You didn't want me putting flowers in your hair." The words come out before I can stop them, and I am utterly mortified. Could it really be possible that we had experienced the same dream? The horrifying thought crosses my mind that if it was possible, how many of my other dreams had we shared?
He looks at me strangely. "How – " He pauses, appearing to draw some conclusions. "It was your dream? You put that dream in my head?"
"Don't be stupid," I protest, scrambling to send his reasoning in a different direction. "I couldn't have possibly, I don't know how – "
"I'm not saying you did it on purpose," he chuckles, seeming to take great amusement out of the situation. "Just that you did. How else would I have been able to see this garden, you little witch?" He lets out a loud bark of laughter, and I scowl at him. As if this isn't shameful enough, he has to laugh at me?
"Stop that! I didn't – it wasn't – " I protest desperately, my voice cracking a little.
"Don't look so bashful, Gemma. This is wonderful!"
"I can't see how," I grumble bad-temperedly, unable to look at him as tears of shame blur my vision.
He seems to finally notice that his laughter is upsetting me, and he reaches over to take my face tenderly between his hands.
"Look at me. Look at me, Gemma," he commands gently, wiping a stray tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Don't you understand? You are so vexing, my girl. All this time, I've been so confused, so sure that you have feelings for me only to turn around and have you say something so – so – and I am crestfallen, but – your dream! I can't – I must –"
And he kisses me, bold as you please, taking my mouth as if it has always been his to take. I am too shocked to react for a moment, trying to process his uncharacteristically excited outburst at the same time that he is slipping his tongue between my startled lips.
His arms come around my waist and he pulls me fiercely against him, and suddenly it is nothing like our other kisses.
I feel an explosive thrill rip through me as Kartik displays an expertise I never dreamed him in possession of. His body presses into mine like hot steel, making me feel delightfully small and feminine. His fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of my neck, driving me closer as his hot mouth plunders my own, his free hand clever and sure on my back. I should stop this, but I need him so very badly that I can hardly comprehend my own command to pull away. I am totally at his mercy, and I pray that he has a heavier hand on his self-control than I do. Flashes of old dreams well up in my mind, and I moan in distress at the rousing images.
"Oh, God, this cannot go on," Kartik gasps against my skin as his mouth moves to my neck, pressing his tongue against my pulse.
"No," I agree, but my voice is little more than a whimper.
"I can't – we can't – this mustn't - " he is muttering without any sign of slowing, his soft, moist mouth moving madly over my throat as I cling to him helplessly. If I had known it could be like this between us, perhaps I would not have had the power to resist him for so long.
Somewhere in my passion-muddled mind, I hear a noise that makes the blazing heat in my belly go cold. A rustle. A giggle. So quiet, so easy to miss.
I wrench violently away from Kartik, my mind going blank with panic.
"Gemma, what – "
"Quiet!" I snap desperately, and he seems to catch on. We are both frozen, trying to get our bearings, and I feel utterly ridiculous for letting my guard down so carelessly.
"Hello there, pretties," comes a soft, sugary-sweet voice, though I cannot see its owner.
It's coming for me. I'm such a fool!
"Gemma, move!" Kartik demands, hauling me towards the door. I don't remember how. He lifts me bodily and carries me with incredible speed towards the door. He flings it open and we are through, safe in my room. I am gasping, shivering, my mind racing to process what we have just so narrowly escaped. The terror I feel is palpable, as well as completely irrational; I realize that whatever that thing is, it radiates fear.
I can't think, I have to think. I cling to Kartik, and he holds me in return, breathing heavily and seeming just as tongue-tied as I am. I breathe carefully, steadily. My heart slows to a more natural rhythm. I collapse against Kartik, and he staggers, barely managing to keep us upright.
In all my muddled thoughts, one blares to the forefront, demanding my full attention.
Never, never, never. I can never go back.