Goddess of the Rose (Goddess Summoning #4)(66)

"It doesn't look any better than it did yesterday," she said.

"It also does not look any worse."

"I suppose that's something. You know, I don't sense anything horrible coming from the forest. If you hadn't told me about the danger there, I wouldn't have thought the forest was anything more than an old, dark woods."

"Dream Stealers choose their time carefully to appear. Remember to be on your guard always when you are near the gate or in the forest itself."

"But you'll be with me, won't you? I mean, I can't open the gate."

He raised a brow at her. "Of course you can, Empousa."

Her eyes widened as she looked from him to the gate and back to him again. "I'll be careful," she said. Then she turned her attention to the basket of food. "Let's worry about the forest later. Now, let's eat."

Hesitating only a moment, he sat and made an almost imperceptible gesture that caused the shadows around them to thicken. He wanted to be able to watch her without schooling his expression, and that was not something he would do if the other women could easily see them.

"You look tired," he said.

"So do you," she countered as she pulled a wineskin from the basket and then took a long drink.

"Your face is pale, Mikado."

"That doesn't surprise me." She tossed him the wineskin and then began taking cheese and bread from the basket. Mikado glanced up at him. "Drink," she ordered.

He drank, thinking that he could taste the essence left by her lips, and that lingering touch was more intoxicating than wine could ever be. Then he realized what she had said and commanded himself to stop daydreaming.

"Why is it that you are not surprised by your pallor?"

"The roses in this part of the garden are sicker than the ones in the east," she said between bites.

"Yes, I thought so, too."

"Somehow I'm connected to them. They make me feel sick, too."

"I guessed as much. You seemed to change when we entered this part of the gardens."

"Do you know if this has happened to any other Empousa?"

"Each Empousa has a special bond with the roses," he said slowly.

"It is in the blood of Hecate's High Priestesses."

"I already know that. Even back in Tulsa I had a connection to roses, and so did all the women in my family. We always have. It's - it's a kind of family tradition."

He thought she looked uncomfortable. Perhaps she missed her family? Or her old world? The thought made his chest feel tight. Could there be a man for whom she was pining? Is that why she suddenly sounded so awkward when she mentioned her old life? Before he could consider asking, Mikado continued.

"But what I want to know is have any of the other Empousas felt things because of the roses?"

"They may have, but I would not have known. The other Empousas rarely spoke to me."

She looked surprised. "But you're Guardian of the realm. Didn't they need to talk to you about" - her hand fluttered in the direction of the rose wall - "protection and whatnot?"

"Each Empousa knew I would do my duty. None felt the need to speak with me about it. If an Empousa felt that any danger approached, she would call for me. Other than that, we rarely had the need to speak together." He thought of the Empousa who had come before Mikado and realized, again, shame at the ease with which she had fooled him into believing she might care for him. That for generations the Empousas had shunned him, taken his guardianship for granted, had been precisely the reason her ruse had worked so easily on him. One or two kind words and he had been blind to anything except the chance that she might show him another kindness.

Could that be what was happening with Mikado? Was he still so desperate for a woman's gentleness that he was becoming lost in yet another game?

But what game? Mikado did not know her destiny, so she had no reason to falsely seduce him.

"Asterius?"

The sound of his true name broke into the turbulence of his thoughts. "You must not call me that when any of the women might overhear you." His voice sounded rougher than he had intended, and he hated the hurt that was reflected in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I should have asked if you minded that I call you by your given name."

"I do not mind." He met her gaze, willing her to read within his eyes all that he was feeling and all that he could not find words to say. "It is just that to the rest of them, I prefer to remain Guardian."

"I understand," she said.

"Do you? Do you know what power there is in a true name?"

"No," she said softly, "tell me its power."

"When you speak my true name, I hear it not with my ears, but with my soul. With that one word, you touch my soul, Mikado."

"The soul of a man, Asterius."

"So the goddess tells me," he said.

"You don't believe her?"

"I would never lack belief in Hecate," he said quickly.

"Then it's yourself you don't believe in," Mikado said.

He looked away from her too-knowing gaze and didn't answer for several moments, during which he unconsciously flexed and contracted his claws over and over. Then, reluctantly, he said, "Perhaps it is the man inside the monster in which I have trouble believing."