CHAPTER TWELVE
Alad
There’s more I don’t say that eats at me: it would be just like Gil to tie the curse to love. What if the only way I can escape returning to stone is to earn Char.Lot’s truest, deepest affection?
Gilgamesh was incensed because he believed I harbored more love for a slave than for him.
Though he wasn’t right in the conclusion he drew, his beliefs can’t be easily discarded.
I saw his lips move as I turned, though the sounds were buried beneath rushing wind.
He borrowed Anu’s magick for the curse, and a god’s magick is tied to Fate’s directives, else it fails.
Finding Char.Lot, a female nearly identical to Karu, the very slave over whom Gil and I argued and the cause of my “betrayal,” smacks of Fate’s interference.
And here I’ve been trying to discover if Char.Lot will fuck me without disgust. I should have been trying to seduce her into deep affection instead.
Impossible. She’ll never love me. Will she?
“I can help you, Lord Alad,” the viscount says, excitement in his tone.
“As luck would have it, Sir Austen is due to stay with me for a week. My home is in Mayfair, just three short blocks from here. I’ll send an invitation around for the ball I’m giving in his honor tomorrow night.
Arrival is nine-ish, with a late supper, of course.
Around midnight, I plan to hold a viewing of the artifacts to be exhibited shortly.
With permission from the museum, of course. ”
“I’ve already accepted my invitation.” Mary glances across the table at Lord Peterson before blushing a pretty pink.
So. It’s that way between them. I examine the viscount. He’s good-looking, though a bit gangly. When I blur my eyes to see his aura, I find it a pure, pale blue. Mary’s is also blue, also pure. They’ll make a fine match, two good people mated together.
Does Char.Lot know her friend is moved by the viscount? She’ll worry… for Mary. For herself. She’ll likely worry for me, too. I don’t believe she enjoys upset. But will she enjoy adventure as I do?
Sir Gilead is speaking when I remove my thoughts from love.
“Sir Austen discovered The Epic of Gilgamesh in the ruins of the Assurbanipal’s library in Nineveh.
Northern Iraq, quite distant from where the city-state of Uruk lies.
” His words are cordial, but his voice and his aura are colored a sickly yellow-green.
He’s a jealous, whining sort, capable of great evil.
I’d already decided I disliked him. Now, I’m certain. “You will attend, Miss Butters?”
There’s an oil to his voice and a certain contempt in his eyes as he stares at Char.Lot that makes me yearn to lift him by his scrawny neck and shake him like a dog with a rat.
Before I kill him where he sits, I rise to my feet. “Excuse me. I need to further explore your language and culture. Lady Mary, may I trouble you for some books?”
The women rise as one. Lady Mary nods. “Of course, Lord Alad. Allow me to summon Soames to escort you to the library. You’ll find all manner of wonderful reading material there. I also have a few dictionaries of cuneiform, as well as treatises on Assyriology and what we’ve uncovered thus far.”
“But surely we’ll speak further on the marvels of your world and what you do here?” Lord Peterson says, rising too.
“Almost certainly.” I bob my head towards him, ignoring the still-seated Sir Gilead, who’s assessing Char.Lot too closely.
Soames arrives at the end of a pulled cord, which tinkles lightly in the distance. If he finds it odd to encounter a creature in the drawing room, he gives not the least sign. I lift my paw, intending to hold it out to Char.Lot, but when her eyes widen, I drop it.
Of course. I’m a monster. Any association between us will ruin her. And it may also be that she’s tired of spending time with me.
I follow the butler to the library. I can’t help but worry at the distance every step places between Char.Lot and myself. When we arrive at our destination, Soames points out decanters of alcoholic beverages.
I’ve had my taste of losing control because of alcohol with Karu, even if I didn’t imbibe on purpose. It’s hard to forget that she only took me because Gil insisted. Had I been myself, I would have realized it and pulled away. “No. Thank you. Just some tea, please, though something less strong?”
“We’ve just the thing, sir. Quite drinkable without cream and sugar.
” He offers me a small smile. “When I arrived from the country, it took me a while to learn how to evade the water. The secret lies in tisanes, which can be drunk straight. I’ve a lovely chamomile to relax the body, or a mint to soothe the stomach? ”
“Mint. That would be lovely.”
Left to my own devices, I prowl the space.
Upon the floor is a soft carpet woven with extraordinary colors.
Some shades are new to me and have no name.
The walls are carved of dark wood. Shelving stretches to the ceiling on all four of them, leaving nooks for windows.
Each shelf contains a plethora of books.
A comfortable couch and an assortment of chairs bank a small table in the center of the room.
At the far end, a desk sits, some sort of rectangular green leather gracing the top, along with a statue from my world.
I pick it up, transforming my paw into a hand without thought.
The object is a representational figure of an Anunnaki.
The being is lizard-like and hails from a time before Uruk was settled into a city-state.
After The Flood, such figurines were created to pay homage to Anu, Enlil, Enki, Inanna, and the rest of the careless creatures whose otherworldly powers helped raise humans back from the mud.
Touching an object created before my birth helps settle me as nothing else can. I’m not the only ancient thing in existence, and not even the oldest, though perhaps the oldest breathing.
Could Gil be dead? Could Anu have allowed his grandson to be slain?
I’ve never given death much thought, not even when my father passed to the next world. I barely knew him. His absence from my life, one way or the other, remained the same. My mother raised me in the palace, and there I remained for most of my days.
No. I refuse to believe I won’t see Gil again. No matter how careless, he would never have left me in stone without thinking he would meet me again, probably laughing at the great joke he played upon me. Such is far more likely to be true than a forever-parting.
The afternoon passes into twilight as I delve through books. I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until I wake to find Char.Lot leaning over me, covering my body—part of my body—with a blanket. I lie on my side on the comfortable, plush rug with its magnificent colors.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, Alad.”
She’s dressed in a new gown of deep green, and at the back, a bustle sticks out like an extended thumb from a fall of fabric.
The neckline dips almost to her breasts.
Other fabric, detailed at points and transparent at others, draws my attention to their curves.
She has gorgeous breasts. If they look anything like Karu’s when fully uncovered, I’ll be lost.
“What is this?” I lift the fluff with my paw after she folds to her knees next to me. My knuckles brush the soft skin of her rounded flesh.
She inhales sharply, her beautiful eyes closing. When she opens them, heat sparkles there. Even now. Even with me in First Form.
“Lace. French lace. It’s woven in a convent in France. Mary has a fondness for it and deep pockets.”
“I approve.” I hear the grumble of lust in my tone.
Quickly, my eyes seek hers again to judge whether she recognizes the tone, whether it bothers her.
Pink darkens her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away.
Instead, her lips fall open. “You’re so soft, so beautiful.
” I brush the fur side of my paw lightly over her flesh. “You like this.”
I don’t make it a question. I don’t wish to give her the chance to escape.
She leans in towards me. “It feels like being stroked with velvet.”
“I could stroke you in other places, and you could tell me if you still think so.”
The flush passes from her forehead to where the lace begins. She’s ripe, red fruit, stinging my lips with longing to taste her. “Alad, I…”
The demurrer acts like a bucket of icy water. I retract my paw. “My apologies.”
But everything in me sinks. My question has been answered. No marriage can work between us. Not yet. Likely never.
Forget fucking. Forget love. I’ve come so far, in time and in space, but my adventure won’t yield what I truly need. What I’m beginning to realize I always truly needed.
I’m doomed.