Midnight of the Fae [Tangere Tales 2] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Read online

  He felt more solid than he looked as she cuddled him and rose to her feet on sluggish legs. The adrenaline rush was wearing off, and this must be the aftermath. Good thing the walk hadn’t been a long one. She shuffled to the opening and tried to focus her eyes as the sunlight swirled and flickered through the verdant green beyond. The buzzing of the honeybees grew louder.

  “Hmm…” she murmured as the little curly-eared Doop-Doop rubbed against her, probably marking her as “his” and snuggling close against her breasts. She breathed in his clean aroma, almost like lavender, blending nicely with the orchard fragrance emanating from the cave opening. “It’s warmer now, too. Nice.”

  Green. Everything was so…green outside the cave opening. Flowers grew thick and abundant outside the cave in colors that defied description before they swirled together, overtaking her vision. Fatigue crept through her muscles, and she kneeled down in the opening, concerned she might drop Doop-Doop from her boneless arms.

  An orange dropped from a tree near the cave and rolled to the entrance. Picking it up, she brought it to her nose. The intoxicating scent filled her senses as the bright colors faded in her vision, soothing her into a darkness that was, for once, void of panic.

  Chapter One

  Caresse came awake gradually, turning to stretch as she inhaled slow and deep—and then went motionless. She’d thought the heady fragrance of oranges was part of her dream. Blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes, she realized she lay beneath a great tree. The thick groundcover of bright green grass was lush beneath her hand as she turned on her side and looked around.

  “I must still be dreaming,” she murmured through a throat rusty with sleep. Another long stretch surged through her, and she turned once again to her back, hoping the dream wouldn’t depart.

  A tickle against her cheek sent a ripple of shudders down her back, and she opened her eyes, not realizing she’d let them close again, and stared up into a furry little face with whiskers, a tiny black snout, and gold-flecked, caramel-colored eyes. He was standing so close to her head he startled a squeak out of her.

  “Doop-Doop?” she said, pausing to wonder at how idiotic the name sounded. Elaina would love her choice.

  A little pink tongue curled out as he yawned widely and then gave her a doggy grin.

  With a giggle, she scratched under his chin. “Good nap?”

  He gave an enthusiastic raspy bark and play-bowed again. His dark-lashed eyes had a bit of a slant to them. The way the wisps of fur curled up at the points of his ears only added to his puckish and slightly exotic air. He couldn’t be more adorable if he tried.

  “Ready to get moving, huh? I need another minute…or a cup of really strong coffee.”

  He sat and watched her, expectation practically vibrating from his little body.

  “Okay, okay, Mr. Impatient.” She pushed herself to her feet and then steadied herself against the wide tree trunk. Something rustled around her ankles, and she jumped back against the tree. Doop-Doop tilted his head as she gaped down at the long dress she wore. “Holy crap, this is some Technicolor detail for a dream!”

  Then she took in the landscape.

  “This isn’t Washington!”

  * * * *

  In his benign tangere form, Leandre Eryaras watched Caresse’s wide-eyed reaction to her surroundings. He hadn’t anticipated that she would panic earlier, and he’d had to really pour on the “cute” to distract her.

  Given her early history, her fear of the dark made perfect sense, but he hadn’t expected that the dark cavern would be such a hindrance when he’d rendered her flashlight inoperable. If she’d taken one more crawling step backward, he would’ve allowed it to shine once more for her, but he’d been able to win her trust, or at least her curiosity.

  He had to keep reminding himself he had a job to do—to finally complete—on behalf of his cousin, who was also his closest friend. But his empathy for Caresse as an endangered infant had grown to something much stronger as he’d secretly monitored her childhood and teenaged years under the care of her loving adoptive parents. The young woman she had matured into was nothing less than exquisite. Being this close to her, in any form, was distracting.

  Ville des Oranges, the village clustered around the base of Plaisir D’Or, the mountaintop palace, held her attention, and he paused to take it in with new eyes. Built mostly of stone and wood, the quaint village was a far cry from the concrete and steel dwellings, intricate roadway systems, and oil-dependent culture she was used to.

  Judging by her expression, what she saw pleased her. She looked down at him and said, “It looks like something out of a fairy tale. Now the dress makes more sense, at least.”

  Made of good quality fabric, and intended for a woman of moderate means who might be traveling, it would help her to blend in better than the black leggings, snug T-shirt, extra-large plaid flannel men’s shirt, and hiking boots she’d had on when he’d encountered her. His princess had always favored comfort over conformity to fashion trends.

  The depth of his feelings presented a challenge because Caresse’s destiny lay with Sebastien, according to Leandre’s all-seeing, trouble-making sister, Selena. What Selena foretold always came to pass, to her everlasting delight. Her instructions to him had been clear: tell no one he’d saved the crown prince’s intended all those years ago. Allow everyone to believe she’d died after disappearing. He was to keep Caresse safe by keeping her location secret, draw her to the portal when the time was right, and do whatever it took to keep her there until she discovered the truth of her heritage.

  Judging by the shocked fascination on her beautiful face, she had no recollection whatsoever of her surroundings.

  “I’m glad you’re back, tiny one. You’ve been missed.” The words came out as a raspy canine vocalization, and she looked down at him and grinned.

  He enjoyed the view of her bountiful breasts as she squatted down to stroke his head and then lifted him into her arms. Another movement that he didn’t mind, as it meant she would carry him next to her luscious cleavage. He indulged in a totally canine instinct and licked her sweet flesh.

  Low neckline…excellent choice.

  “Wait! What am I thinking?” she suddenly said, spinning around, blinking, and then he could practically hear her heart begin to palpitate again. “Am I—am I still dreaming? Where is the cave entrance? And how long was I napping? Angel and Elaina must be frantic!” She spun in the other direction, making him a little dizzy, and her voice held traces of panic. “Where’s the cave?”

  He was careful as he extended the touch of the tangere to her, not wanting to put her back to sleep. She’d only awaken and panic once more. He needed her calm enough to work through the dilemma without the anxiety, which was almost painful for him to feel emanating from her.

  She looked about her, rubbing her eyelids with one hand and then gaping about again. “Stop being a ninny and think, girl,” she murmured to herself. She clutched him gently to her as she moved around the clearing and then spotted the stream that gurgled nearby. Judging by her enchanted smile, the Spring of Ethereanna had been the right place to take her. Overlooking the village, it had been one of her mother’s favorite spots for quiet reflection, away from the intrigue of the palace.

  Caresse sat on the flat rock on the bank, and he enjoyed the view as she leaned forward to cup water from the clear flow in her hand to drink, gulping in obvious enjoyment until her thirst was sated. After she drank her fill, she held her cupped hand out to him. He lapped willingly until he licked her delicate palm dry.

  Standing on the flat rock, she took in her surroundings once more, calming on her own and no longer needing the touch of the tangere, one of his many gifts. “Well, boy, either I’m hallucinating, or we’re not in Washington anymore.”

  Cradling his little chest in her hand, she tipped him up to peer at him, and he was glad that he’d adopted this form rather than the less benign alternative he occasionally took on. Cuteness was called for, and he counted
it as a bonus because she could hold him close and not feel threatened. He wriggled as she lightly stroked the curling hairs at the top of his tangere ears. She peered at him curiously and then turned him and lifted his tail.

  Not used to being manhandled, he submitted with embarrassing heat in his tiny doggy jowls as she confirmed that he was, in fact, a male.

  “Oh, well, I guessed right then. You’re all boy judging by those big, furry cajones, aren’t you?”

  He sputtered with laughter and tried to sound like he was coughing or sneezing as she turned him to face her again. “Yeah, honey, I’m all boy. Wish I could show you how much boy I am in my true form. Then we’ll see who’s blushing.” Of course his words came out more like rawr-rowr-rawr-rawrrr.

  “I love that little growly-sassy sound you make. You don’t look like any breed of canine I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen them all, working part-time at my dad’s veterinary practice. What’s this?”

  She lifted his chin and peered at the gold medallion with the orange blossom crest hanging from his collar and frowned. “Huh, I was expecting an ID tag. Are you from…” She peered around her again and then shook her head. “You must belong to someone from around here—wherever here is?”

  He wagged his tail and gave her his best doggie grin, affirming her guess in the only way he could, but his own thoughts were clear on the subject. Yes, but from this point forward, I go where you go, gorgeous. Welcome to the Southern Kingdom of Tangere—or should I say welcome back?

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  When he wriggled in her arms, she set him on the ground, and he pointed his nose toward the village. After several steps he looked over his shoulder at her and uttered an expectant yip. No one could say he wasn’t fulfilling his part in getting her to Plaisir D’Or. Nobody had to know he wanted to stay near her out of more than just loyalty to his cousin and his sister.

  “Lead on then, Doop-Doop. I suppose it’s too much to hope you’re actually leading me back to the cave? No? Angel and Elaina must be worried out of their minds.”

  The answer to her question was no, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to let her question go unanswered completely, so he trotted back to her, held out one little paw, and touched the hem of her dress. While peering up at her with limpid, adorable pleading in his eyes, shamelessly capitalizing on the cute factor, he gave just a tangere nudge of affirmation that her friends would be all right. Later, he could explain to her.

  He looked back at Ville des Oranges, now closer, and she gazed after him and then smiled. “I guess the least I can do is get you home.”

  He was one who had never felt settled anywhere in all his years, but next to her now felt like home to him.

  She lifted him into her arms once more and set out.

  The trail widened to a path that veered onto the well-trod road, and he sensed her nervousness as travelers heading in the opposite direction nodded to her as they passed. Close to the outer boundary of the town, she paused as she stepped onto the stone pavers that lined the roadways between the multi-storied houses, shops, and other businesses.

  “This is so not Washington, Doop-Doop.”

  He wagged his tale in affirmation and chuckled when she gasped as she spotted a horse-drawn coach turning onto the main thoroughfare from a side street.

  “Not sure why I’m surprised. It’s not like I expected it to be a Chevy or a Ford.” She drew in a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. He remembered his first good look at the world she’d grown up in and understood the culture shock.

  She drew to the side as another carriage crossed the main thoroughfare, and paused mid-step. She lifted the medallion on his collar and then glanced at the coach trundling over the stone pavers. “The same symbol. Some sort of flower.”

  Leandre smiled to himself, pleased at her astuteness. She hurried her steps and turned down a side street that led along one of the river canals and followed behind the slow-moving conveyance. “If I’m still dreaming, I guess I can thank my imagination for the Lord of the Rings imagery. The view here is amazing,” she added, casting her head about, stopping to take in the mountain range that ringed the village and surrounding countryside. “I didn’t realize how high up we were.”

  The coach turned again, crossing a bridge arching over the canal and then making another turn. She hurried to not lose sight of it and then exhaled when she spotted the crest on the stone gate leading to the inner courtyard of a mansion. Glancing again at his tag, and then looking around her at the other homes, she peered at the carving above the stone gate again. “Is that where you belong, honey? How did you come to be lost in that cave, so far from home?”

  I wasn’t lost. I was waiting for you, sweet one.

  Bravely, she walked up to the carved door and used the ornate brass knocker. The setting sun infused the red wood with a richness of hue, and Leandre watched as Caresse looked up at it with narrowed eyes. She laid a hand on the wood, and her brow furrowed slightly. Did she remember?

  A moment later, with his unchanging air of decorum, George answered the large door and bowed his head in greeting. “Good evening. How may I assist you, mademoiselle?” Then George’s eyes lowered to Leandre’s furry countenance and his expression transformed to one of happy relief. “You’ve found him! The master will be so happy. He’s been out searching for Leandre for hours. Please, please come in, mademoiselle.”

  “Leandre? That’s his name?” She looked a little sheepish as she giggled and stroked his paw.

  No worries, beautiful one. You can call me Doop-Doop—or anything else. Just stay. The first time she’d called him Doop-Doop he’d nearly fallen over laughing but hadn’t wanted her to think the harmless little canine she’d encountered was having some sort of fit. He didn’t care what she called him as long as she called him. He gave a brief tangere nudge, enough to reassure her that she was safe here.

  George gently patted Leandre’s head, the scent on his hands redolent of his favorite tobacco. “Leandre was named by his mistress, Ella, the master’s late first wife. She was quite attached to him. He’s been missing since yesterday.”

  “I found him…on my way…here, wherever here is.” She gestured out the still open door to the village square beyond the gated courtyard. She held her own counsel well.

  Rightly surmising she didn’t know where she was, George nodded. “Ah, then welcome to Ville des Oranges, mademoiselle. The palace you undoubtedly saw on the mountaintop is Plaisir D’Or, the ruling capitol of the Southern Kingdom of Tangere.”

  George closed the door and, without the bright sunlight blinding him, set eyes on Caresse, and then his bushy eyebrows arched upward before he capped his surprise. He’d always been an observant sort. George hailed one of the maids as she passed, whispered to her, and then turned back to Caresse.

  “Won’t you please come into the parlor? I’m certain Monsieur de Rochambard will wish to thank you personally for finding Leandre and returning him home.”

  “Oh…sure, of course, I mean. Thank you.”

  Leandre felt the way her arms trembled as she still held him close. He relaxed in her embrace, inspiring her to do the same. The tricky part came now. He wanted her to stay. She had to stay. He had no power to force her decision. All he could do was reassure and soothe her.

  Moments later, the parlor door opened, and Charles entered, looking dignified in his usual black velvet, though Leandre spotted the dark circles under his hooded eyes and the tufts of his gray hair that stood out around his head like a halo. He must’ve hung his head out of the carriage calling for him all that time. Charles let out a profound sigh.

  “You have indeed found him, mademoiselle, for which I am most grateful. Forgive me, I am Charles de Rochambard, master of this dwelling and commerce minister to the king and queen of Plaisir D’Or.” She reached out to shake his hand, and he bowed over it and pressed her knuckles to his lips before gazing up at her in expectation. As he studied her, he blinked, and a light of recognition came into his gaze, o
r perhaps hope?

  “Oh,” she murmured, recovering quickly, Leandre noted with pride. “I am Caresse, from the house of…Baker.”

  “A…Baker…or a baker?”

  “Yes, uh…both!” she said with a smile. “I am from Washington, bordering the…western seas. It is a distant land…that’s um, south of the Great White North.”

  And thank goodness we all speak English, or I’d be up a shit creek—eh?

  Charles nodded diplomatically, but Leandre picked up on the disappointment that was there in his expression. “I hope to learn more of the land of your birth. But tell me first, how I can thank you for returning Leandre? I despaired of ever seeing my late wife’s beloved pet again.”

  Caresse put her hand to her forehead and then looked at the fading daylight through the parlor window. “I’ve only just…arrived.” She hesitated and looked at Leandre as if expecting a suggested fabrication, but he thought she was doing well on her own. “I could use a place to stay for the night and—”

  “But of course! You must dine with us this evening and stay for as long as you like. Absolutely. I wish to hear more about your family, your Washington home by the western seas.”

  Caresse nodded, her arm tightening around him a fraction before placing his tangere form into Charles’s sure embrace. Leandre lifted his chin for Charles’s well-placed scratch. It was a hard life he lived sometimes.

  “To be honest, sir, at the moment I…think I may be looking for work? And possibly a permanent place to stay—”

  “Well, then you must stay here. You are most welcome. You say you are a baker? Depending on your skills, you might find work here, within my home. For now, though, you are my most appreciated guest.”

  Charles’s heartfelt words warmed Leandre’s heart. He’d wanted the master to be worked up enough over his absence to want to reward the one who found him. It hadn’t occurred to him when he’d trotted off the night before that his absence would upset Charles so greatly. He didn’t care for the notion of her working in Charles’s home, but she was finally there, and that was progress.