A Glassy Lady: Coeur de Lyon: A Renaissance Flair 2 Read online

  There was a brief break for a lunch, if it could properly be called that, considering it consisted of these weird little cucumber-quinoa rolls, watercress salad, and green tea! Although the honeyed Greek yoghurt was quite tasty and Bard made a mental note to check out that brand later.

  After “lunch,” they headed to the spa-side. After quickly changing into some terry cloth robes and some surprisingly comfortable slippers—and yes, they even had slippers big enough to fit his 16ers, thank you very much—Bard rejoined his sisters, who had likewise changed. He should have suspected they were up to something when they were whispering to one another, glancing back at him occasionally as he joined them, but he was feeling rather comfortable at the moment, and really looking forward to getting something called a “Warm Stone Full-Body Massage,” which sounded rather blissful. Even his wolf was all onboard for that!

  The twins were muttering just low enough that even his enhanced hearing could barely make it out, but he managed to catch just enough that had him wary.

  “Nah…” Tanja hissed, “He’d… chicken... big…”

  Sanja nodded in agreement, again flicking her eyes back at him, as she hissed, “… Donar would… he’s not… omegadritt!”

  “Language,” Bard cautioned, although without much heat, considering he didn’t have a paw to stand on when it came to ‘clean’ language. With reluctance, he finally gave in to his curiosity, “Okay, what are you two plotting now?”

  In the provided robes, with their hair cut and styled, fresh faced and with those big blue eyes both staring up at him, Bard flinched away. “What? What?”

  “Well…” Tanja drawled out, eyes flicking briefly over to Sanja, who nodded encouragingly, “We were going to get our legs waxed before our massages…”

  “No,” Bard said, shutting that shit down now! RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!

  “But!” Tanja stamped her foot and pouted, although the stamp was a lot less effect with the fuzzy slippers on her feet.

  “No, you two can get your legs waxed, feel free, but no…I am…” Bard declared, feeling a flush rising up his neck as he met their stubborn faces.

  “Told you he was an omegadritt,” Sanja muttered, “Donar would’ve waxed his chest if we asked him to.”

  “Donar manscapes anyways,” Bard countered, “And he’s kinda dumb.” Shaking his head, he crossed his muscular arms over his manly, furry chest and stared down his long, narrow nose at his sisters, “You’re not going to guilt me or trick me into waxing my chest. No way, no how.”

  “You asked for it,” Tanja responded in a lilting voice, “Do it, Sanja!”

  Sanja whipped her phone out of the pocket of her robe and began rapidly swiping her finger, saying not a word.

  Okay, now Bard…and his wolf…started to get nervous. “What are you doing?” he found himself asking before he could reconsider asking something he knew he did not want to know the answer to.

  “Oh, just making a post to Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook,” Sanja replied casually.

  “What post?”

  Sanja paused, glancing up at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Sure you want to know? I mean, it’s not like we can guilt you or trick you into waxing your chest.”

  Uncrossing his arms, Bard tried to lean up, tilting his head to try and get a glance of her screen, “So what are you posting then?”

  “Pictures I’ve been holding on to from your birthday last year,” Sanja said nonchalantly, and there went that one-shoulder shrug again!

  “Can’t prove it was me,” Bard replied smugly, “Could’ve been Aksel or Donar!”

  Sanja’s response was to turn the screen of her phone to face him. There, in full color, was a picture of Aksel, face clean-shaven to show the baby face that his other brothers hide behind beards, and Donar, both wearing T-Shirts with their name on it standing on either side of as they supported an obviously drunk and passed out Bard.

  Bard, however, was wearing a pretty pink ballgown, like something out of a Disney movie, with a name tag that read ‘My Name is BARD.’ His head was resting on Aksel’s shoulder as he snored away, his beard neatly braided while his hair was pulled up in a knot on top of his head, complete with a party tiara. But the killer, was what was written on his forehead, in bright, glittering pink letters: Omega.

  “Seriously?” Bard muttered, scrubbing his face. “You’re seriously going to blackmail me to getting my chest waxed with that picture?”

  Was it any wonder Bard preferred to stay away from his pack, his family, and hide out in his shop and studio?

  While Bard’s wolf chortled, fucking chortled, the big guy gave a sigh and held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. You two have been hanging out with your other brothers too much,” he grumbled, “I give in. How bad can it be?”

  A little while later, howls of such utter pain and suffering echoed throughout the valley, a song of such gut-wrenching desolation that it was added to a certain banshee’s favorite playlist and may have caused an avalanche or two—but those are just urban legends.

  Chapter 5

  Driving from one side of the Estates to the other, where the Village was situated, really reinforced just how massive the entire enterprise was. Divided by a river that neatly bisected the two areas, the western Estates were almost completely given over to a Rocky Mountain getaway. Between the Château, which served as a hotel, conference center, and hosted an award-winning restaurant, and the numerous getaway cottages scattered throughout the mostly untouched alpine forest, it was little wonder this region was known for its winter sports.

  Contrasting that, however, was the Village. And that’s just what it was, an entire village that could have been transplanted from a distant time in Europe and placed smack-dab in the heartland of the United States. Continuing the “duality” theme, the Village consisted of two distinct sections, which Sam explained were dubbed “Seelie Dexter” and “Unseelie Sinister.”

  Sam directed Harper to the massive main parking lot that served as guest parking when the Faire actually opened. With only two weeks until the opening weekend, the parking lot was filled with moving vans, campers, RVs, and trucks galore as people moved gear and materials into the park.

  “They start preparing a month in advance,” Sam said as Harper parked and took in the crowd milling about. “Starting Monday, we have all the inspectors and State official types going over the property, providing necessary licenses, and all that, so this weekend is the big pre-prep stuff.”

  “So, what’s up with the fairy theme? I mean, Elizabethan tends to be the most common theme for most Ren Faires.” Harper eyed Sam askance. When Sam squirmed a bit, Harper narrowed her eyes and turned to more directly face the other woman.

  “Um, well…” Sam could never disguise what she was thinking, every emotion always fully and almost defiantly proclaimed on her pretty face. Going by the blush creeping up her neck, she was hiding something.

  “MyboyfriendisasidheandtherearealotofsupernaturalsaroundherebuttheycallthemselvesUncannies,” Sam exploded, her words running together in a single exhalation that took Harper a few moments to translate into something remotely resembling English.

  “She as in a woman? Or Sidhe as in one of the Shining Host, sweetie?” Harper held up a hand, “Take a breath woman, then try again.”

  Panting, Sam patted her chest rapidly as she caught her breath. Inhaling slowly, steadily, she squeezed her eyes shut as she said more slowly, “My boyfriend is one of the Sidhe, as in Shining Host, and the entire area has a lot of supernatural creatures around, but according to my someday-to-be-sister-in-law, they tend to call themselves Uncannies.”

  Harper waited to respond until Sam ever-so-slowly cracked one eye open to gauge Harper’s reaction. “Sweetie, thank you for telling me. Are you one of those Uncannies?” Harper’s voice was calm, rational, the same tone of voice she used when speaking to one of her clients when they were freaking out.

  Shaking her head emphatically, Sam’s eyes popped wide as she stared at
Harper aghast, “Oh, no! I’m just apparently very, very Irish, and inherited the Sight from my dad’s side of the family.”

  Giving Sam a faint smile, Harper pointed to herself, “And what do you see when you look at me?”

  Looking confused, Sam said, “I’ve never seen any aura about you. I mean, just normal, like me.”

  “Ah,” Harper said with a rueful burst, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes as she gave Sam a sheepish grin, “That’s my fault. One second…”

  Carefully, so very carefully, Harper mentally unwove the spiritual charm as she slid a delicately bracelet of braided silver strands suspending three clear glass beads from her wrist.

  “Now look,” Harper said, meeting Sam’s curious gaze.

  Sam reached up and tugged her glasses down to the tip of her nose, tilting her head so those stormy blue eyes could see unimpeded. She inhaled sharply before softly saying, “Your aura is wispy, all smoky and glittery, greens and blues and purples, and really, really pretty!”

  Harper slid the bracelet back on, mentally reweaving the charm that disguised her aura before she replied, “I’m a Witch, on both sides of my family actually, but I’ve had to hide it since I was a little girl. It’s second nature now, and I don’t really practice it much, but I guess I’m one of those supernatural types, too.”

  Pushing her glasses back up, Sam smirked and teased, “I always knew you were a b’witch!”

  “Yeah, yeah, everyone’s a comedian,” Harper rolled her eyes. “There, now that you got it out of your system, let’s go see my home for the next few months, yeah?”

  Hopping down out of the truck, Sam trotted around to join Harper, who had climbed out and was opening the rear cab so she could grab her luggage.

  “Only four bags?” Sam’s disbelief was palpable. “Oh, that’s right, you’ve got a U-Haul. You scared me for a second!”

  Laughing, Harper hauled out her bags. “Nope, that’s all glass stuff and some equipment I’m going to need, but most of my stuff is in storage. I’m attempting that whole downsizing, reinventing myself thing.”

  Turning, Harper smirked. “But that one is shoes. That one’s unmentionables. That’s shirts, and that one’s pants and skirts.” Shrugging, Harper admitted, “I also brought some of my professional clothes, but those and a few costumes I already picked up, are in the back of the trailer.”

  “Well,” Sam grabbed the handles of two of the bags, groaning melodramatically at the effort of pulling them. Fair enough, they were the largest possible bags that had handles and wheels that Harper could find, but they weren’t that heavy! “Let’s go get you settled in so you can get some sleep.”

  Shouldering her purse, Harper secured her remaining bags and trailed after the oddly perky Sam. She hadn’t gotten more than maybe twenty steps away from Little Lady then they were suddenly surrounded by a swarm of big, beefy, smiling men. There was something in the air, since Harper had yet to see a single unattractive male, that stood shorter than she was, all day! Even the mysterious bikers at the gas station had been brutes, but attractive brutes!

  Before she could offer even a token protest, two of the big guys had grabbed the luggage out of her and Sam’s grasp, easily shouldering the bags without any visible sign of effort whatsoever, and they were not light suitcases!

  “Oh my,” Harper breathed, admiring the display of muscularity.

  “You’re having airs, aren’t you!” Sam laughed, although Harper noted that Sam’s eyes were likewise fixated on the flexing of muscular buttocks as the two large men strode towards the Village.

  “It’s vapors, sweetie,” Harper explained, wrapping an arm around Sam’s shoulder and guiding her forward. “Airs, are what you put on when you’re acting superior. Vapors, are what you have when you’re feeling faint, but oh my sweet baby Jesus, those are some fine specimens of manhood!”

  “It’s the whole supernatural predator thing,” Sam commented sagely, eyes twinkling merrily. “Draw in the poor, unsuspecting females with their displays of alpha male hotness, then swoop in for the kill!”

  Harper sighed as she rolled her eyes and admitted with a laugh, “There would be worse ways to go. Now hush and admire the view while it lasts!”

  As Sam and the two burly porters escorted Harper through the Village, exhaustion finally beating Harper about the head and shoulders. Sam must have noticed her flagging, because she stopped pointing out people and places and instead hurried them along.

  Finally, they stopped in front of a two-story cottage. The exterior of the entire bottom floor was stone, with large glass windows and a heavy wooden door that opened into an airy, well lit room. The second floor was wooden beams, with a thatched roof that Sam assured her was simply for looks. Connected to the cottage was a covered area with a free-standing furnace, already set-up and ready to go.

  This was really happening.

  As Harper fished out the keys and security code she had been provided, Sam explained that the entire Village was self-sufficient, drawing water from artisan wells, with solar panels and even its own sewage treatment facilities. Not quite completely off-the-grid, but all of the tech was concealed to give the illusion of an otherwise generic, Renaissance-era European village.

  At the moment though, all Harper cared about was the fully-furnished studio apartment upstairs. She’d worry about everything else, after she got some rest!

  “Thank you, Samantha,” Harper told her friend sincerely, giving the smaller woman a tight hug as the two large guys deposited her luggage up in the studio. “You have no idea how much I needed this little getaway. So, thank you!”

  Sam returned the hug, “We’ll catch up tonight! You’ve got my number, so once you’ve had a chance to sleep, get a real shower and all that, we’ll pick you up and treat you to dinner!”

  “We, eh?” Harper teased. “So, I get to meet Mr. Not Good Enough, But Totally a Sex God So Worth It?”

  “Of course! He’s paying for dinner,” Sam laughed, waving it off.

  After sincerely thanking the two men for their help—and finally getting their names, Bradley for the black-haired one and his blond, surfer-looking younger (but just as massive) brother introduced himself as Brentley—Harper gave Sam a final hug before she trudged upstairs to sleep.

  Sleep good! Yep, okay, even her inner voices were reverting to monosyllables. Definitely time for sleep!

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Where is he? The thought raced through Harper's head on repeat, matching the pounding of her racing heart.

  A dark hall stretched endlessly before her, behind her, the rough stone walls pressing in, while the rough, uneven ground was gritty beneath her bare feet. The air was freezing, cold enough that she could catch hints of her ragged breaths in the ghosts of mist wrung from her lips. It was dark, but it was gradated, some blacks darker than others, writhing shades crawling along the walls, reaching for her.

  Unseen eyes stripped her bare, left her defenseless and vulnerable, while hundreds of discordant voices hissed and whispered taunts.

  You'll never find him.

  He belongs to us now.

  You're not strong enough to save him.

  Fat, ugly cow.

  Okay, that was the last damned straw!

  Harper tore the bracelet off her wrist, releasing the psychic walls she had spent twenty years reinforcing with her every breath, and unleashed Inner Bitch with a primal scream.

  How did that Nietzsche quote go? 'And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.' Well, Harper could now say with certainty that if you scream into the abyss, the abyss screams back.

  The shadows shuddered, their shrieks of pain rising in an unholy chorus that threatened to shatter Harper's eardrums. Yet, they retreated enough to allow Harper just a glimmer, a glimpse of a pale, flickering light far down the icy hall.

  Without hesitation, Harper ran. Of course, that's when she realized this was all just a dream, since Harper never ran, but nevertheless, she ran like her life depen
ded on it. Forward, must keep moving forward! He needs me...

  She had to get to that light. It was more than just a moral imperative, she sensed he needed to be protected from the encroaching shadows, and only she would be able to do so.

  Bright scarlet pain streaked along Harper's bare flesh as tenebrous, skeletal hands sought to hold her back. The heavy tread of her racing feet on the sharp, pitiless stone jabbed stinging spikes up her legs that threatened to send her sprawling.

  But the light grew stronger. Closer. Stronger. She could hear a soft whimper. A groan.

  Harper reached for the light, startled to see that her own body glowing with a luminescence of its own. It burned from deep within her, a molten heat coursing throughout her. It pulsed in harmony with the clear, crystalline light ahead, chasing away the darkness, allowing Harper to see that she was in some ice-covered tunnel.

  She had just enough time to notice that a wall of ice, an actual solid wall of ice explode out of the ground in front of her, before she ran face-first into it. Slamming her fists against the wall, halting her progress, Harper struggled to catch her breath.

  What am I doing? This is a dream. Just a dream. Calm down, wake up.

  A thunderous crash from the other side of the wall drew Harper's attention. The ice reflected the warmth of the light still pulsing from within her, but it also magnified the light of whatever stood on the other side.

  She could just make out a pale, indistinct figure. Taller than her, broad and masculine, the figure was pounding on the ice wall furiously, hammering away. Harper knew she should be afraid of what lay on the other side of the icy barrier, an almost primal shiver of...something...slivering up her spine, but it wasn't fear that caused her heart to race.

  Desperately, Harper began to beat on her side of the barrier. Every slam of her fist shattered the ice, steam hissed as her radiant heat pummeled a hole from her side of the wall.